


.v-^ 







/ <L*^ 




^o * 














i5^^ 



















<•> 



-fsTS. ^ 



.♦^^♦. 



*^'.-..^<*. 
















/•^-. 




<j5°^ 















%<,''■ 





















O N -'^ 






5^^ 




^^'^i^ -< 

"^k-. -p 





MEMOIRS 



AN AMERICAN LADY, 



WITH 



SKETCHES OF MANNERS AND SCENERY 



IN AMERICA, 



AS THEY EXISTED PREVIOUS TO THE REVOLUTION. 



BY MRS. GRANT, 

AUTHOR OF " LETTERS FROM THE MOUNTAINS," ETC., ETC. 



TWO VOLS. OF THE LONDON EDITION IN ONE. 




NEW YORK : 
D. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY. 

PHILADELPHIA: 
GEO. S. APPLETON, 148 CHESNUT STREET. 

M Dccc xLvi. : ^ ' - 



ei^ 



# 






PUBLISHERS' NOTICE. 



After we had announced our design to republish Mrs. 
Grant's " History of an American Lady," we received from 
Mr. Grant Thorburn, of New York, the ensuing letter, 
which is so characteristic of the parties, and so apposite, that 
we prefix it to the work ; as the recent and final attestation 
of the narrator to the fidelity of the biographical records with 
which her attractive volume is replete. 

New York, 1845. 

Having heard that you contemplate the republication of the 
" American Lady," by the late Mrs. Grant, of Langan, Scotland, and 
having been personally acquainted with her, I thought it proper to 
present to you a few circumstances aneiit the authenticity of that 
very interesting history. It is not a romance ; nor a novel, nor a 
fiction, nor a tale partly founded on reality — but it is an authentic 
detail of facts. 

Mrs. Grant was the daughter of Duncan McVickar, and was born 
in 1755. Her father came to this country in 1757, as an officer in 
the fifty-fifth regiment of the British army. In the following year, 
1758, Mrs. McVickar and her daughter also arrived in New York ; 
and speedily after removed to Claverack, where she resided while 
Mr. McVickar was absent on military service with his regiment. 
After which his family were first transferred to Albany, and thence 
subsequently were stationed at Oswego. ^ 

The description of that romantic journey, as given in the Amer- 
ican Lady, from Schenectady to Oswego, in flat-bottomed boats, is 
one of Mrs. Grant's most pleasing efforts ; and excited great atten- 
tion when the volume was first pubHshed in London, in 1808. Those 



PUBLISHERS NOTICE. 



youthful reminiscences rendered her extensively known in this 
country, and were additionally interesting to Americans, because at 
that period it was the only work which delineated a faithful picture 
of the manners of the early settlers in the province of New York. 
Indeed, without that Narrative, there would be a complete chasm in 
our social history of the times anterior to the Revolution. Her 
anecdotes of the Cuylers. Schuylers, Van Rensselaers, and other 
distinguished old Dutch families of Albany, and its vicinity, gave 
universal satisfaction. 

In 1810, Mrs. Grant removed from London to Edinburgh, where, 
during thirty years, her house w^as the resort of the best society of 
Scotland. American citizens always considered themselves obliged 
to pay their respects to her ; and it was a privilege to have an in- 
terview with that lady, for she always received them with manifest 
attention and regard. Calm and resigned, she ceased to live in 
1838, being then eighty-five years of age. 

I was in Edinburgh in 1834 ; and on the morning of February the 
fifth, I called at her house to see and converse with that venerable 
octogenarian lady. The ring of the bell was answered by the ap- 
pearance of a neat and tidy Scotch lassie. 

" Is Mrs. Grant at home V I inquired. 

" She is," answered the lassie, " but she never sees company till 
after two o'clock." 

As she was then nearly eighty years of age, I thought that per- 
haps she still was in bed. 

" Is she up V I again asked. 

" She is." 

" Is she dressed V 

" She is." 

I had travelled two miles in a real " Scotch mist ,•" and loath to 
lose that opportunity of seeing my namesake and favorite author- 
ess, a circumstance which perhaps might not again recur, I took 
out my c^, saying, " Please to give this to your mistress, and say 
to her, turn I shall consider it a peculiar kindness, if she will favor 
me with only a few minutes' conversation." 

The girl speedily returned, saying, " Will you please to walk up 
stairs, sir?" 



In the middle of an elegant parlor sat the old lady, with her back 
to the fire ; and before her a large desk, covered with books and 
writing materials. 

" Be so good, sir," said Mrs. Grant, " as to help yourself to a 
chair, and sit down by me. I am not so able now to wait on my 
friends, as I was sixty years ago.'* 

I was going to apologize for intruding on her hours of seclusion, 
when she interrupted me, by remarking — 

" Stop, if you please, sir!" 

Then raising my card, which was printed, " Grant Thorburn, 
New York ;" and placing her finger on the word " New York," 
she added, " That is a passport to me at any hour." 

We went back, and talked of the times when Niagara was the 
only fort on the northern frontier. She referred to the times when 
the Cuylers, Schuylers, Van Cortlandts, and Van Rensselaers, were 
her playmates at school. Mrs. Hamilton, a Schuyler, the widow 
of General Hamilton, who yet lives in the eighty-eighth year of 
her age, was among the number. 

When I told Mrs. Grant that I was personally acquainted with 
Mrs. Hamilton, and with many other descendants of those old wor- 
thies, and that the race had not degenerated, the days o' " Auld 
lang syne'"' sprung up from her heart, and her eyes sparkled with 
the fire of a heroine of twenty-five summers. 

Mrs. Grant remembered Albany when it contained only two 
streets ; one along the river, and the other, now State-street, run- 
ning down from the old fort on the top of the hill. She alluded to 
the unsophisticated customs of the times past ; and gave me the 
story of the lads and lasses, sometimes fifty in a group, when at 
their rustic sports. She depicted the boys with an axe, gun, or 
fishing-tackle ;. and the girls with their knitting- work, cakes, pies, 
and tea. The longest day, Mrs. Grant said, seemed far too short ; 
and especially for the fishing parties, which she humorously de- 
scribed, and especially noticed the vexation of the lads, and the 
merriment of the lasses with the boys, when they only caught 
drows instead of trout. 

Mrs. Grant also described the old nuptial ceremonies ; and par- 
ticularly specified the marriage of couples, of which the eldest was 



PUBLISHERS NOTICE. 



not seventeen years of age. In that case the fathers and mothers 
held a council ; and the parents who had most house-room, or 
raised the largest crop, took the young couple to live with them. 

I also conversed with Mrs. Grant especially on the subject of 
her work the " American Lady ;" and she assured me that there is 
not any romance in the history ; but that it is a plain and faithful 
narrative of her Aunt Schuyler, and of the persons and manners 
of that period as they existed in the then province of New York. 

Mrs. Grant is the author also of the " Essays on the Supersti- ( / 
tions of the Highlanders of Scotland"—" V^-^QetVS:^T»-^JG]£n- ^ 
— bm'iriC** — and " Letters from the Mountains ;" but neither of those 
works has attained the popularity of the " American Lady." 

Grant Thorburn. 

The preceding notice, by Mr. Thorburn, of Mrs. Grant's 
chief work, not only affirms the authenticity of the facts, but 
it exhibits the amiable historian so attractively, that it will 
render her volume additionally acceptable to all who are de- 
sirous to behold a genuine picture of our ancestors, prior to 
the changes made in our country by the Revolution, and our 
subsequent independence. Therefore, to the women of our 
republic especially, the " American Lady" is confidently rec- 
ommended. 

New Yorkf November 19, 1845. 



TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE 

SIR WILLIAM GRANT, Knt., 

MASTER OF THE ROLLS. 



Sir:— 

It is very probable that the friends, by whose soHcita- 
tions I was induced to arrange, in the following pages, 
nay early recollections, studied more the amusement I 
should derive from executing this task, than any pleasure 
they could expect from its completion. 

The principal object of this work is to record the few 
incidents, and the many virtues, which diversified and dis- 
tinguished the life of a most valued friend. Though no 
manners could be more simple, no notions more primitive, 
than those which prevailed among her associates, the 
stamp of originality with which they were marked, and 
the peculiar circumstances in which they stood, both with 
regard to my friend, and the infant society to which they 
belonged, will, I flatter myself, give an interest, with re- 
flecting minds, even to this desultoiy narrative, and the 
miscellany of description, observation, and detail which it 
involves. 



DEDICATION. 



If truth, both of feehng and narration, which are its 
only merits, prove a sufficient counterbalance to careless- 
ness, laxity, and incoherence of style, its prominent faults, 
I may venture to invite you, when you unbend from the 
useful and honorable labors to which your valuable time 
is devoted, to trace this feeble dehneation of an excellent 
though unembellished character ; and of the rapid pace 
with which .an infant society has urged on its progress 
from virtuous simplicity to the dangerous " knowledge of 
good and evil ;" from tremulous imbecility to self-suffi- 
cient independence. 

To be faithful, a delineation must necessarily be mi- 
nute. Yet if this sketch, with all its imperfections, be 
honored by your indulgent perusal, such condescension of 
time and talent must certainly be admired, and may per- 
haps be imitated, by others. 

^ I am, sir, very respectfully. 

Your faithful, humble servant, 

THE AUTHOR. 

London, October, 1808. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 
Introduction' 13 

Chapter I. — Province of New York. — Origin of the Settlement of 
Albany. — Singular Possession held by the Patroon. — Ac- 
count of his Tenants 17 

Chapter II. — Account of the Five Nations, or Mohawk Indians. — 
Building of the Fort at Albany. — John and Philip 
Schuyler 20 

Chapter III. — Colonel Schuyler persuades four Sachems to accom- 
pany him to England. — Their Reception and Return 23 

Chapter IV. — Return of Colonel Schuyler and the Sachems to 
the Interior. — Literary Acquisitions. — Distinguishes an4 
mstructs his favorite Niece. — Manners of the Settlers ... 26 

Chapter V. — State of Religion among the Settlers. — Instruction of 
Children devolved on Females ; to whom the Charge of \ 
gardening, &c., was also committed. — Sketch of the 
State of Society at New York 29 

Chapter VI. — Description of Albany. — Manner of living there. — * 

Hermitage, &c 32 

Chapter VII. — Gentle treatment of Slaves among the Albanians. — 

Consequent Attachment of Domestics. — Reflections on ■ 
Servitude.... 35 

Chapter VIII. — Education and early Habits of the Albanians de- 
scribed 39 

Chapter IX. — Description of the Manner in which the Indian Tra- 
ders set out on their first Adventure 44 

Chapter X. — Marriages, Amusements, Rural Excursions, &c., ifcc, . 
among the Albanians 5^ 

Chapter XI. — Winter Amusements of the Albanians, «fec 57 

Chapter XII. — Lay-Brothers. — Catalina. — Detached Indians 61 

Chapter XIII. — Progress of Knowledge. — Indian Manners 66 



10 CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Chapter XIV. — Marriage of Miss Schuyler. — Description of the | 
Flats 73 

Chapter XV. — Character of Philip Schuyler. — His Management of 

the Indians 77 

Chapter XVI. — Account of the Three Brothers 80 

Chapter XVII. — The House and Rural Economy of the Flats. — 

Birds and Insects 82 

Chapter XVIII. — Description of Colonel Schuyler's Barn, the Com- 
mon, and its various Uses 87 

Chapter XIX. — Military Preparations. — Disinterested Conduct, the 

surest Road to Popularity. — Fidelity of the Mohawks ... 90 

Chapter XX. — Account of a refractory Warrior, and of the Spirit 

which still pervaded the New England Provinces 94 

Chapter XXI. — Distinguishing Characteristics of the New York 
Colonists, to what owing. — Huguenots and Palatines, 
their character 97 

Chapter XXII. — A Child still-born. — Adoption of Children common I 
in the Province. — Madame's Visit to New York 99 

Chapter XXIII.— Colonel Schuyler's Partiality to the Military 
Children successively adopted. — Indian Character false- 
ly charged with Idleness 102 

Chapter XXIV. — Progress of Civilization in Europe. — Northern Na- 
tions instructed in the Arts of Life by those they had 
subdued 106 

Chapter XXV. — Means by which the Independence of the Indians 

was first diminished Ill 

Chapter XXVI. — Peculiar Attractions of the Indian Mode of Life. 
— Account of a Settler who resided some time among 
them 115 

Chapter XXVII. — Indians only to be attached by being converted. 
The abortive Expedition of M. Barr^.— Ironical Sketch 
of an Indian 119 

Chapter XXVIII.— Management of the Mohawks by the Influence 

of the Christian Indians 123 

.Chapter XXIX. — Madame's Adopted Children. — Anecdote of Sister 

Susan 127 

Chapter XXX. — Death of young Philip Schuyler. — Account of his 

Family, and of the Society at the Flats 133 



CONTENTS. 1 1 



Page. 
Chapter XXXL — Family Details 140 

Chapter XXXII. — Resources of Madame. — Provincial Customs ... 1 14 
Chapter XXXIII. — Followers of the Army. — Inconveniences re- 
sulting from such 148 

Chapter XXXIV. — Arrival of a new Regiment. — Domine Freyling- 

hauseu 152 

Chapter XXXV. — Plays acted. — Displeasure of the Domine 156 

Chapter XXXVI. — Return of Madame. — The Domine leaves his 

People. — Fulfilment of his Predictions I GO 

Chapter XXXVII.— Death of Colonel Schuyler 164 

Chapter XXXVIII. — Mrs. Schuyler's Arrangements and Conduct 

after the Colonel's Death 168 

Chapter XXXIX. — Mohawk Indians. — The Superintendent 171 

Chapter XL. — General Abercrombie. — Lord Howe 1 75 

Chapter XLI. — Total Defeat at Ticonderoga. — General Lee. — Hu- 
manity of Madame 180 

Chapter XLII.— The Family of Madame's Sister.— The Death of 

the latter 183 

Chapter XLIII. — Further Successes of the British Arms. — A Mis- 

sionar)^ — Cortlandt Schuyler 186 

Chapter XLIV. — Burning of the House at the Flats. — Madame's 

Removal. — Journey of the Author 189 

Chapter XLV. — Continuation of the Journey. — Arrival at Oswego. 

— Regulation, Studies, and Amusements there 194 

Chapter XLVI. — Benefit of Select Reading. — Hunting Excursion... 201 
Chapter XLVII. — Gardening and Agriculture. — Return of the Au- 
thor to Albany 204 

Chapter XLVIII. — Madame's Family and Society described 208 

Chapter XLIX. — Sir Jeffrey Amherst. — Mutiny. — Indian War 214 

Chapter L.— Pondiac— Sir Robert D 218 

Chapter LI. — Death of Captain Dalziel. — Sudden Decease of an 

Indian Chief. — Madame. — Her Proteges 223 

Chapter LII. — Madame's Popularity. — Exchange of Prisoners 229 

Chapter LIII. — Return of the 55th Regiment to Europe. — Privates 

sent to Pensacola 232 

Chapter LIV. — A new Property. — Visionary Plans 235 

Chapter LV.— Return to the Flats 243 

Chapter LVI. — Melancholy Presages. — Turbulence of the People... 246 



12 CONTENTS. 



Page. 
Chapter LVII. — Settlers of a new Description. — Madame's Chap- 
Iain 251 

Chapter LVIII. — Mode of conveying Timber in Rafts down the 

River 258 

Chapter LIX. — The Swamp. — A Discovery 260 

Chapter LX. — Mrs. Schuyler's View of the Continental Politics ... 265 
Chapter LXI. — Description of the Breaking-up of the Ice on the 

Hudson River 268 

Chapter LXII. — Departure from Albany. — Origin of the State of 

Vermont 271 

Chapter LXIII. — General Reflections 276 

Chapter LXIV. — Reflections continued 282 

Chapter LXV. — Sketch of the Settlement of Pennsylvania 287 

Chapter LXVI. — Prospects brightening in British America. — Desi- 
rable Country on the Interior Lakes 290 



INTRODUCTION. 



TO . 

Dear Sir, — 

Others as well as you have expressed a wish to see a 
memoir of my earliest and most valuable friend. 

To gratify you and them I feel many inducements, and see 
many objections. 

To comply with any wish of yours is one strong induce- 
ment. 

To please myself with the recollection of past happiness 
and departed worth, is another ; and to benefit those' into 
whose hands this imperfect sketch may fall, is a third. For, 
the authentic record of an exemplary life, though delivered in 
the most unadorned manner, and even degraded by poverty 
of style, or uncouthness of narration, has an attraction for the 
uncorrupted mind. 

It is the rare lot of some exalted characters, by the united 
power of virtues and of talents, to soar above their fellow- 
mortals, and leave a luminous track behind, on which suc- 
cessive ages gaze with wonder and delight. 

But the sweet influence of the benign stars that now and 
then enlighten the page of history, is partial and unfrequent. 

They to whom the most important parts on the stage of life 
are allotted, if possessed of abilities. undirected by virtue, are 
too often 

" Wise to no purpose, artful to no end," 

that is really good and desirable. 

They, again, in whom virtue is not supported by wisdom, 
are often, with the best intentions, made subservient to the 

2 



14 INTRODUCTION. 



short-sighted craft of the artful and designing. Hence, though 
we may be at times dazzled with the blaze of heroic achieve- 
ment, or contemplate with a purer satisfaction those •' awful 
fathers of mankind," by whom nations were civilized, equi- 
table dominion established, or liberty restored ; yet, after all, 
the crimes and miseries of mankind form such prominent fea- 
tures of the history of every country, that humanity sickens 
at the retrospect, and misanthropy finds an excuse amidst 
the laurels of the hero, and the deep-laid schemes of the 
politician : — 

" x\nd yet this partial view of things 
Is surely not the best." Burns. 

Where shall we seek an antidote to the chilling gloom left 
on the mind by these bustling intricate scenes, where the best 
characters, goaded on by furious factions or dire necessity, 
become involved in crimes that their souls abhor ? 

It is the contemplation of the peaceful virtues in the genial 
atmosphere of private life, that can best reconcile us to our 
nature, and quiet the turbulent emotions excited by 

" The madness of the crowd." 

But vice, folly, and vanity are so noisy, so restless, so ready 
to rush into public view, and so adapted to afford food for 
malevolent curiosity, that the still small voice of virtue, active 
in its own sphere, but unwilling to quit it, is drowned in their 
tumult. This is a remedy, however, 

" Not obvious, not obtrusive." 

If we would counteract the baleful influence of public vice 
by the contemplation of private worth, we must penetrate into 
its retreats, and not be deterred from attending to its simple 
details by the want of that glare and bustle with which a fic- 
titious or artificial character is generally surrounded. 



INTRODUCTION. 15 



But in this wide field of speculation one might wander out 
of sight of the original subject. Let me then resume it, and 
return to my objections. Of these the first and greatest is 
the dread of being inaccurate. Embellished facts, a mixture 
of truth and fiction, or, what we sometimes meet with, a fic- 
titious superstructure built on a foundation of reality, would 
be detestable on the score of bad taste, though no moral sense 
were concerned or consulted. 'Tis walking on a river half 
frozen, that betrays your footing every moment. By these 
repulsive artifices no person of real discernment is for a mo- 
ment imposed upon. You do not know exactly which part 
of the narrative is false ; but you are sure it is not all true, and 
therefore distrust what is genuine, where it occurs. For this 
reason a fiction, happily told, takes a greater hold of the 
mind than a narrative of facts, evidently embellished and in- 
terwoven with inventions. 

I do not mean to discredit my own veracity. I certainly 
have no intention to relate any thing that is not true. Yet in 
the dim distance of near forty years, unassisted by written 
memorials, shall I not mistake dates, misplace facts, and omit 
circumstances which form essential links in the chain of nar- 
ration ? Thirty years ago, when I expressed a wish to do 
what I am now about to attempt, how differently should I have 
executed it. A warm heart, a vivid imagination, and a tena- 
cious memory, were then all filled with a theme which I 
could not touch without kindling into an enthusiasm, sacred 
at once to virtue and to friendship. Venerated friend of my 
youth, my guide, and my instructress ! are then the dregs of 
an enfeebled mind, the worn affections of a wounded heart, 
the imperfect eflforts of a decaying memory, all that remain to 
consecrate thy remembrance, to make known thy worth, and 
to lay on thy tomb the offering of gratitude ? 

My friend's life, besides being mostly passed in unruffled 



16 INTRODUCTION. 



peace and prosperity, affords few of those vicissitudes which 
astonish and amuse. It is from her relations to those with 
whom her active benevolence connected her, that the chief 
interest of her story (if story it may be called) arises. It in- 
cludes that of many persons, obscure indeed but for the light 
which her regard and beneficence reflected upon them. Yet 
without those subordinate persons in the drama, the action of 
human life, especially such a life as hers, cannot be carried 
on. Those can neither appear with grace, nor be omitted 
with propriety. Then, remote and retired as her situation 
was, the variety of nations and characters, of tongues and of 
complexions, with which her public spirit and private benevo- 
lence connected her, might appear wonderful to those unac- 
quainted with the country and the times in which she lived ; 
without a pretty distinct view of which my narrative would be 
unintelligible. I must be excused too for dwelling, at times, 
on the recollection of a state of society so peculiar, so utterly 
dissimilar to any other that I have heard or read of, that it 
exhibits human nature in a new aspect, and is so far an object 
of rational curiosity, as v/ell as a kind of phenomenon in the 
history of colonization. I forewarn the reader not to look for 
lucid order in the narration, nor for intimate connection be- 
tween its parts. T have no authorities to refer to, no coeval 
witnesses of facts to consult. In regard to the companions 
of my youth, I sit like the " voice of Cona," alone on the 
heath ; and, like him too, must muse in silence, till at inter- 
vals the " light of my soul arises," before I can call attention 
to " a tale of other times," in which several particulars rela- 
tive to my friend's ancestry must necessarily be included. 



SKETCHES 



MANNERS AND SCENERY IN AMERICA 



CHAPTER I 

Province of New York. — Origin of the Settlement at Albany. — Singular 
Possession -held by the Patroon. — Account of his Tenants. 

It is well known that the province of New York, anciently- 
called Munhattoes by the Indians, was originally settled by 
a Dutch colony, which came from Holland, I think, in the 
time of Charles the Second. Finding, the country to their 
liking, they were followed by others more wealthy and better 
informed. Indeed, some of the early emigrants appear to 
have been people respectable both from their family and 
character. Of these the principal were the Cuylers, the 
Schuylers, the Rensselaers, the Delancys, the Cortlandts, the 
Tenbroecks, and the Beekmans, who have all of them been 
since distinguished in the civil wars, either as persecuted 
loyalists or triumphant patriots. I do not precisely recollect 
the motives assigned for the voluntary exile of persons who 
were evidently in circumstances that might admit of their 
living in comfort at home, but am apt to think that the early 
settlers were those who adhered to the interest of the Stadt- 
holder's family, a party which, during the minority of King 
William, was almost persecuted by the high republicans. 
Thev who came over at a later period probably belonged to 
the ^rty which opposed the Stadtholder, and which was 
then in its turn depressed. These persons afterwards dis- 
tinguished themselves by an aversion, nearly amounting to 
antipathy, to the British army, and indeed to all the British 

2* 



18 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

colonists. Their notions were mean and contracted ; their 
manners blunt and austere ; and their habits sordid and par- 
simonious. As the settlement began to extend they retired, 
and formed new establishments, afterwards called Firkkill, 
Esopus, &c. 

To the Schuylers, Cuylers, Delancys, Cortlandts, and a 
few others, this description did by no means apply. Yet 
they too bore about thern the tokens of former affluence and 
respectability, such as family plate, portraits of their ancestors 
executed in a superior style, and great numbers of original 
paintings, some of which were much admired by acknow- 
ledged judges. Of these the subjects were generally taken 
from sacred history. 

I do not recollect the exact time, but think it was during 
the last years of Charles the Second, that a settlement we 
then possessed at Surinam was exchanged for the extensive 
(indeed at that time boundless) province of Munhattoes, which, 
in compliment to the then heir-apparent, was called New 
York. Of the unexplored part of that country, the most fer- 
tile and beautiful was situated far inland, on the banks of the 
Hudson River. This copious and majestic stream is navi- 
gable 170 miles from its mouth, for vessels of sixty or seventy 
tons burden. Near the head of it, as a kind of barrier against 
the natives, and a central resort for traders, the foundation 
was laid of a town called Oranienburgh, and afterwards by 
the British, Albany. 

After the necessary precaution of erecting a small stock- 
aded fort for security, a church was built in the ce'ntre of the 
intended town, which served in different respects as a kind 
of landmark. A gentleman of the name of Rensselaer was 
considered as in a manner lord paramount of this city, a pre- 
eminence which his successor still enjoys, both with regard 
to the town and the lands adjacent. The original proprietor 
obtained from the High and Mighty States a grant of lands, 
which, from the church, extended twelve miles in every di- 
rection, forming a manor twenty-four Dutch miles in length, 
and the same in breadth, including lands not only of tha best 
quality of any in the province, but the most happily situated 
for the purposes both of commerce and of agriculture This 
great proprietor was looked up to as much as republicans in 
a new country could be supposed to look up to any one. He 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 19 

was called the Patroon, a designation tantamount to lord of 
the manor. Yet, in the distribution of these lands, the sturdy 
Belgian spirit of independence set limits to the power and 
profits of this lord of the forests, as he might then be called. 
None of these lands were either sold or alienated. The 
more wealthy settlers, as the Schuylers, Cuylers, &c., took 
very extensive leases .of the fertile plains along the river, 
with boundless liberty of woods and pasturage to the west- 
ward. The terms were, that the lease should hold while 
water runs and grass grows, and the landlord to receive the 
tenth sheaf of every kind of grain the ground produces. 
Thus, ever accommodating the rent to the fertility of the soil, 
and changes of the seasons, you may suppose the tenants did 
not greatly fear a landlord, who could neither remove them, 
nor heighten their rents. Thus, without the pride of proper- 
ty, they had all the independence of proprietors. They were 
like German princes, who, after furnishing their contingent 
to the emperor, might make war on him v/hen they chose. 
Besides the profits (yearly augmenting) which the patroon 
drew from his ample possessions, he held in his own hands 
an extensive and fruitful demesne. Yet, preserving in a 
great measure the simple arid frugal habits of his ancestors, 
his wealth was not an object of envy, nor a source of corrup- 
tion to his fellow-citizens. To the northward of these bounds, 
and at the southern extremity also, the Schuylers and Cuy- 
lers held lands of their own. But the only other great land- 
holders I remember, holding their land by those original 
tenures, were Philips and Cortlandt ; their lands lay also on 
the Hudson River, half way down to Ne.w York, and were 
denominated Philips's and Cortlandt's manors. At the time 
of the first settling of the country, the Indians were numerous 
and powerful along all the river ; but they consisted of wan- 
dering families, who, though they established some sort of 
local boundaries for distinguishing the hunting grounds of 
each tribe, could not be said to inhabit any place. The cool 
and crafty Dutch governors, being unable to cope with them 
in arms, purchased from them the most valuable tracts for 
some petty consideration. They affected great friendship 
for them ; and, while conscious of their own weakness, were 
careful not to provoke hostilities ; and they silently and in- 
sensibly established themselves to the west. 



20 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



CHAPTER 11. 

Account of the Five Nations, or Mohawk Indians. — Building of the Fort 
at Albany.— John and Philip Schuyler. 

On the Mohawk River, about forty miles distant from Al- 
bany, there subsisted a confederacy of Indian tribes, of a 
very different character from those mentioned in the prece- 
ding chapter ; too sagacious to be deceived, and too power- 
ful to be eradicated. These were the once renowned five 
nations, whom any one, who remembers them while they 
were a people, will hesitate to call savages. Were they sav- 
ages who had fixed habitations ; who cultivated rich fields ; 
who built castles, (for so they called their not incommodious 
wooden houses, surrounded with palisadoes ;) who planted 
maize and beans, and showed considerable ingenuity in con- 
structing and adorning their canoes, arms, and clothing? 
They who had wise though unwritten laws, and conducted 
their wars, treaties, and alliances, with deep and sound pol- 
icy; they whose eloquence was bold, nervous, and animated ; 
whose language was sonorous, musical, and expressive ; who 
possessed generous and elevated sentiments, heroic fortitude, 
and unstained probity — were these indeed savages ? The 
difference 

" Of scent the headlong lioness between 
And hound sagacious, on the tainted green," 

is not greater than that of the Mohawks in point of civility 
and capacity, from other American tribes, among whom, in- 
deed, existed a far greater diversity of character, language, 
&c., than Europeans seem to be aware of. This little tribute 
to the memory of a people who have been, while it sooths 
the pensive recollections of the writer, is not so foreign to 
the subject as it may at first appear. So much of the peace 
and safety of the infant community depended on the friend- 
ship and alliance of these generous tribes ; and to conciliate 
and retain their affections so much address was necessary, 
that common characters were unequal to the task. Minds 
liberal and upright, like those I am about to describe, could 
alone excite that esteem, and preserve that confidence, which 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 21 



were essential towards retaining the friendship of those vahi- 
able allies. 

From the time of the great rebellion, so many English ref- 
ugees frequented Holland, that the language and manners of 
our country became familiar at the Hague, particularly among 
the Stadtholder's party. When the province of New York 
fell under the British dominion, it became necessary that 
everybody should learn our language, as all public business 
was carried on in the English tongue, which they did the 
more willingly, as, after the revolution, the accession of the 
Stadtholder to the English crown very much reconciled 
them to our government. Still, however, the English was a 
kind of court language ; little spoken, and imperfectly under- 
stood in the interior. Those who carried over with them the 
French and English languages soon acquired a sway over 
their less enlightened fellow-settlers. Of this number were 
the Schuylers and Cuylers, two families among whom intel- 
lect of the superior kind seemed an inheritance, and whose 
intelligence and liberality of mind, fortified by well-grounded 
principle, carried them far beyond the petty and narrow views 
of the rest. Habituated at home to centre all wisdom and all 
happiness in commercial advantages, they would have been 
very ill-qualified to lay the foundation of an infant state in a 
country that afforded plenty and content, as the reward of in- 
dustry, but where the very nature of the territory, as well as 
the state of society, precluded great pecuniary acquisitions. 
Their object here was to tame savage nature, and to make 
the boundless wild subserv^ient to agricultural purposes. 
Commercial pursuits were a distant prospect ; and before 
they became of consequence, rural habits had greatly changed 
the character of these republicans. But the commercial spirit, 
inherent in all true Batavians, only slept to wake again, when 
the avidity of gain was called forth by the temptation of bar- 
tering for any lucrative commodity. The furs of the Indians 
gave this occasion, and Avere too soon made the object of the 
avidity of petty traders. To the infant settlement at Albany 
the consequences of this short-sighted policy might have 
proved fatal, had not these patriotic leaders, by their example 
and influence, checked for a while such illiberal and danger- 
ous practices. It is a fact singular and worth attending to, 
from the lesson it exhibits, that in all our distant colonies 



22 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 

there is no other instance where a considerable town and 
prosperous settlement has arisen and flourished, in peace 
and safety, in the midst of nations disposed and often pro- 
voked to hostility, at a distance from the protection of ships, 
and from the only fortified city, which, always weakly garri- 
soned, was little fitted to awe and protect the whole province. 
Let it be remembered that the distance from New York to 
Albany is 170 miles; and that in the intermediate space, at 
the period of which I speak, there was not one town or forti- 
fied place. The shadow of a palisadoed fort,* which then 
existed at Albany, was occupied by a single independent 
company, who did duty, but were dispersed through the town, 
working at various trades,: so scarce, indeed, were artisans 
in this community, that a tradesman might in these days ask 
any wages he chose. 

To return to this settlement, which evidently owed its se- 
curity to the wisdom of its leaders, who always acted on the 
simple maxim that honesty is the best policy ; several miles 
north from Albany a considerable possession, called the Flats, 
was inhabited by Colonel Philip Schuyler, one of the most 
enlightened men in the province. This being a frontier, he 
would have found it a very dangerous situation had he not 
been a person of singular worth, fortitude, and wisdom. If I 
were not afraid of tiring my reader with a detail of occurren- 
ces which, taking place before the birth of my friend, might 
seem irrelevant to the present purpose, I could relate many 
instances, almost incredible, of the power of mind displayed 
by this gentleman in governing the uninstructed, without co- 
ercion or legal right. He possessed this species of power in 
no common degree ; his influence, with that of his brother, 
John Schuyler, was exerted to conciliate the wandering tribes 
of Indians ; and by fair traffic, (for he too was a trader,) and 
by fair liberal dealing, they attained thei^object. They also 
strengthened the league already formed with the five Mohawk 
nations, by procuring for them some assistance against their 
enemies, the Onondagoes of the Lakes. 

Queen Anne had by this time succeeded the Stadtholder. 

* It may be worth noting, that Captain Massey, who commanded this 
non-effective company for many years, was the father of Mrs. Lennox, an 
estimable character, well known for her literary productions, and for being 
the friend and protegee of Doctor Johnson. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. S3 

The gigantic ambition of Lewis tlie Fourteenth actuated the 
remotest parts of his extensive dominions ; and the encroach, 
ing spirit of that restless nation began to discover itself in 
hostilities to the infant colony. A motive for this could scarce 
be discovered, since they possessed already much more ter- 
ritory than they were able to occupy, the limits of which 
were undefined. But the province of New York was a fron- 
tier ; and, as such, a kind of barrier to the southern colonies. 
It began also to compete for a share of the fur-trade, then very 
considerable, before the beavers were driven back from their 
original haunts. In short, the province daily rote in impor- 
tance ; and being in a great measure protected by the Mohawk 
tribes, the policy of courting their alliance^ and of impressing 
their minds with an exalted idea of the power and grandeur 
of the British empire, became obvious. I cannot recollect 
the name of the governor at this time ; but whoever he was, 
he, as well as the succeeding ones, visited the settlement at 
Albany, to observe its wise regulations and growing prosperity, 
and to learn maxims of sound policy from those whose inter- 
ests and happiness were daily promoted by the practice of it. 



CHAPTER III. 

Colonel Schuyler persuades four Sachems to accompany him to England. 
— Their Reception and Return. 

It was thought advisable to send over some of the heads 
of the tribes to England to attach them to that country : but 
to persuade such of them as were intelligent, sagacious, and 
aware of all probable dangers ; who were strangers to all the 
maritime concerns, and had never beheld the ocean ; to per- 
suade such independent and high-minded warriors to forsake 
the safety and enjoyments of their own country, to encounter 
the perils of a long voyage, and trust themselves among entire 
strangers, and this merely to bind closer an alliance with the 
sovereign of a distant country-r— a female sovereign too ; a 
mode of government that must have appeared to them very 
incongruous ; this was no common undertaking, nor was it 



24 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

easy to induce these chiefs to accede to the proposal. The 
principal motive for urging it was, to counteract the machina- 
tions of the French, whose emissaries in these wild regions 
had even then begun to style us, in effect, a nation of shop- 
keepers ; and to impress the tribes dwelling within their boun- 
daries with vast ideas of the power and splendor of their 
Grand Monarque, while our sovereign, they said, ruled over 
a petty island, and was himself a trader. To counterwork 
such suggestions, it was thought requisite to give the leaders 
of the nation (who then in fact protected our people) an ade- 
quate idea of our power, and of the magnificence of our court. 
The chiefs at length consented, on this condition only, that 
their brother Philip, who never had been known to tell a lie, 
or to speak without thinking, should accompany them. 

However this gentleman's wisdom and integrity might 
qualify him for this employment, it by no means suited his 
placid temper, simple manners, and habits of life, at once 
pastoral and patriarchal, to travel over seas, visit courts, and 
mingle in the bustle of a world, the customs of which were 
become foreign to those primitive inhabitants of new and 
remote regions. The adventure, however, succeeded beyond 
his expectation ; the chiefs were pleased with the attention 
paid them, and with the mild and gracious manners of the 
queen, who at different times admitted them to her presence. 
With the good Philip she had many conversations, and made 
him some valuable presents, among which, I think, was her 
picture ; but this, with many others, was lost, in a manner 
which will appear hereafter. Colonel Schuyler, too, was 
much delighted with the courteous affability of this princess ; 
she offered to knight him, which he respectfully, but positively 
refused : and being pressed to assign his reasons, he said he 
had brothers and near relations in humble circumstances, 
who, already his inferiors in property, would seem as it were 
depressed by his elevation ; and though it should have no 
such effect on his mind, it might be the means of awakening 
pride or vanity in the female part of his family. He returned, 
however, in triumph, having completely succeeded in his 
mission. The kings, as they were called in England, came 
back in full health, deeply impressed with esteem and attach- 
ment for a country which to them appeared the centre of arts, 
intelligence, and wisdom ; where they were treated with 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 25 

kindness and respect ; and were neither made the objects ol' 
perpetual exhibition, nor hurried about and distracted with a 
succession of splendid, and to them incomprehensible sights, 
the quick shifting of which rather tends to harass minds 
which have enough of native strength to reflect on what they 
see, without knowledge sufficient to comprehend it. It is to 
this childish and injudicious mode of treating those uncivil- 
ized beings ; to this mode of rather extorting from them a 
tribute to our vanity, than of taking the necessary pains to in- 
form and improve them, that the ill-success of all subsequent 
experiments of this kind has been owing. Instead of endeav- 
oring to conciliate them by genuine kindness, and by gradu- 
ally and gently unfolding to them simple and useful truths, our 
manner of treating them seems calculated to dazzle, oppress, 
and degrade them with a display of our superior luxuries and 
refinements ; which, by the elevated and self- denied Mohawk, 
would be regarded as unmanly and frivolous objects, and 
which the voluptuous and low-minded Otaheitan would so far 
relish, that the privation would seem intolerable, when he 
returned to his hogs and his cocoas. Except such as have 
been previously inoculated, a precaution which voyagers have 
rarely had the prudence or humanity to take, there is scarcely 
an instance of savages brought to Europe that have not died 
of the smallpox ; induced either by the infection to which 
they are exposed from the indiscriminate crowds drawn about 
them, or the alteration in their blood, which unusual diet, 
liquors, close air, and heated rooms, must necessarily pro- 
duce. 

The presents made to these adventurous warriors were ju- 
diciously adapted to their taste and customs. They consisted 
of showy habits, of which all these people are very fond, and 
of arms made purposely in the form of those used in their own 
country. It was the fortune of the writer of these memoirs, 
more than thirty years after, to see that great warrior and 
faithful ally of the British crown, the redoubted King Hen- 
drick, then sovereign of the five nations, splendidly arrayed 
in a suit of light blue, made in an antique mode, and trimmed 
with broad silver lace ; which was probably an heir-loom in 
the family, presented to his father by his good ally, and sister, 
the female king of England. 

I cannot exactly say how long Colonel Schuyler and his 
3 



26 SKETCH CS OF MANNERS 

companions stayed in England, but I think they were nearly a 
year absent. In those primeval days of the settlement, when 
our present rapid modes of transmitting intelligence were un- 
known, in a country so detached and inland as that at Albany, 
the return of these interesting travellers was like the first 
lighting of lamps in a city. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Return of Colonel Schuyler and the Sachems to the interior. — Literary 
acquisitions. — Distinguishes and instructs his favorite niece. — Manners 
of the Settlers. 

# 
This sagacious and intelligent patriot thus brought to the 
foot of the British throne the high-spirited rulers of the 
boundless wild, who, alike heedless of the power and splen- 
dor of distant monarchs, were accustomed to say with Fingal, 
" sufficient for me is the desert, with all its deer and woods." 
It may easily be supposed that such a mind as Philip's was 
equally fitted to acquire and to communicate intelligence. 
He who had conversed with Addison, Marlborough, and Go- 
doiphin, who had gratified the curiosity of Oxford and Boling- 
broke, of Arbuthnot and of Gay, with accounts of nature in 
her pristine garb, and of her children in their primitive sim- 
plicity ; he who could do all this, no doubt received ample 
returns of various information from those best qualified to give 
it ; he was, besides, a diligent observer. Here he improved a 
taste for literature, native to him, for it had not yet taken root 
in this uncultivated soil. He brought home the Spectator 
and the tragedy of Cato, Windsor Forest, Young's poem on 
the Last Day, and in short all the works, then published, of 
that constellation of wits which distinguished the last female 
reign. Nay more, and better, he brought Paradise Lost ; 
which in after-times afforded such delight to some branches 
of his family, that to them 

" Paradise (indeed) seemed opened in the wild." 

But to return to our sachems, from whom we have too long 
digressed : when they arrived at Albany, they did not, as 



AND SCENERV IS AMERICA. 27 

might be expected, hasten out with him to communicate their 
discoveries, and display their acquisitions. They summoned 
a congress there, not only of the elders of their own nation, 
but also the chiefs of all those with whom they were in alli- 
ance. This solemn meeting was held in the Dutch church. 
In the present depressed and diminished state of these once 
powerful tribes, so few traces of their wonted energy remain, 
that it could scarce be credited, were I able to relate with 
what bold and flowing eloquence they clothed their concep- 
tions : powerful reasoning, emphatic language, and graceful 
action, added force to their arguments ; they persuaded their 
adherents to renounce all connection with the tribes under the 
French influence ; and to form a lasting league, ofFensiA'e and 
defensive, with that great queen whose mild majesty had so 
deeply impressed them ; and with the mighty people whose 
kindness had gratified and whose power had astonished them, 
whose populous cities swarmed with arts and commerce, and 
in whose floating castles they had rode safely over the ocean. 
I have seen a volume of the speeches of these Mohawks 
preserved by Colonel Scl^^yler ; they were literally translated, 
so that the native idiom was preserved ; which, instead of 
rendering them uncouth, seemed to add to their strength and 
sublimity. 

When Colonel Schuyler returned from England, about the 
year 1709, his niece Catalina, the subject of this narrative, 
was about seven years old ; he had a daughter and sons, yet 
this child was early distinguished above the rest for docility, 
a great desire of knowledge, and an even and pleasing tem- 
per ; this her uncle had early observed. It was at that time 
very difficult tcKprocure the means of instruction in those in- 
land districts ; female education, of consequence, was con- 
ducted on a very limited scale ; girls learned needlework (in 
which they were indeed both skilful and ingenious) from 
their mothers and aunts ; they were taught too at that period 
to read, in Dutch, the Bible, and a few Calvinist tracts of the 
devotional kind. But in the infancy of the settlement few 
girls read English ; when they did, they were thought ac- 
complished ; they generally spoke it, hotvever imperfectly, 
and few were taught writing. This confined education pre- 
cluded elegance ; yet, though there was no polish, there w^as 
no vulgarity. The dregs of the people, w^ho subside to the 



28 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

bottom of the mass, are not only degraded by abject poverty, 
but so utterly shut out from intercourse with the more en- 
lightened, and so rankled with envy from a consciousness of 
the exclusion, that a sense of their condition gradually de- 
bases their minds ; and this degradation communicates to 
their manners the vulgarity of which we complain. This 
more particularly applies to the lower class in towns ; for 
mere simplicity, or even a rustic bluntness, I would by no 
means call vulgarity. At the same time, these unembellished 
females had more comprehension of mind, more variety of 
ideas, more in short of what may be called original thinking, 
than could easily be imagined. Their thoughts were not 
like those of other illiterate women, occupied by the ordinary 
details of the day, and the gossiping tattle of the neighbor- 
hood. The life of new settlers, in a situation like this, where 
the very foundations of society were to be laid, was a life of 
exigences. Every individual took an interest in the general 
welfare, and contributed their respective shares of intelli- 
gence and sagacity, to aid plans that embraced important ob- 
jects relative to the common goot^ Every day called forth 
some new expedient, in which the comfort or advantage of 
the whole was implicated ; for there were no degrees but 
those assigned to worth and intellect. This sinoular com- 
munity seemed to have a common stock, not only of suffer- 
ings and enjoyments, but of information and ideas ; some pre- 
eminence, in point of knowledge and abilities, there certainly 
was, yet those who possessed it seemed scarcely conscious 
of their superiority ; the daily occasions which called forth 
the exertions of mind, sharpened sagacity, and strengthened 
character ; avarice and vanity were there confined to very 
narrow limits ; of money there was little ; and dress was, 
though in some instances valuable, very plain, and not sub- 
ject to the caprice of fashion. The wolves, the bears, and 
the enraged or intoxicated savages, that always hung threat- 
ening on their boundaries, made them more and more en- 
deared to each other. In this calm infancy of society, the 
rigor of law slept, because the fury of turbulent passions had 
not awakened it. •Fashion, that capricious tyrant over adult 
communities, had not erected her standard ; that standard, to 
which the looks, the language, the very opinions of her sub- 
jects must be adjusted. Yet no person appeared uncouth, or 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 29 

ill-bred, because there was no accomplished standard of com- 
parison. They viewed no superior with fear or envy ; and 
treated no inferior with contempt or cruelty ; servility and 
insolence were thus equally unknown. Perhaps they were 
less solicitous either to please or to shine than the members 
of more polished societies ; because, in the first place, they 
had no motive either to dazzle or deceive ; and in the next, 
had they attempted it, they felt there was no assuming a 
character with success, where their native one was so well 
known. Their manners, if not elegant and polished, were at 
least easy and independent ; the constant efforts necessary 
to extend their commercial and agricultural possessions, pre- 
vented indolence ; and industry was the certain path to plenty. 
Surrounded on all sides by those whom the least instance of 
fraud, indolence, or grasping meanness, would have rendered 
irreconcilable enemies, they were at first obliged to " assume 
a virtue if they had it not ;" and every circumstance that 
renders virtue habitual, may be accounted a happy one. I 
may be told that the virtues I describe were chiefly those of 
situation. I acknowledg-e it. It is no more to be expected 
that this equality, simplicity, and moderation, should continue 
in a more advanced state of society, than that the sublime 
tranquillity, and dewy freshness, which adds a nameless 
charm to the face of nature in the dawn of a summer morn- 
ing, should continue all day. Before increased wealth and 
extended territory, these " wassel days" quickly receded ; 
yet it is pleasing to indulge the remembrance of a spot, where 
peace and felicity, the result of moral excellence, dwelt un- 
disturbed for, alas ! hardly for, a century. 



CHAPTER V. 



State of Religion among the Settlers. — Instruction of Children devolved on 
Females — to whom the charge of Gardening, &,c., was also committed. 
— Sketch of the State of Society at New York. 

I MUST finish this general outline, by saying something of 
that religion which gave stability and eff'ect to the virtues of 
this infant societv. Their religion, then, like their original 

3* 



30 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

national character, had in it little of fervor or enthusiasm ; 
their manner of performing religious duties was regular and 
decent, but calm, and to more ardent imaginations might ap- 
pear mechanical. None ever doubted of the great truths of 
revelation, yet few seemed to dwell on the result with that 
lively delight which devotion produces in minds of keener 
sensibility. If their piety, however, was without enthusi- 
asm, it was also without bigotry ; they wished others to think 
as they did, without showing rancor or contempt towards 
those who did not. In many individuals, whose lives seemed 
governed by the principles of religion, the spirit of devotion 
seemed to be quiescent in the heart, and to break forth in 
exigences ; yet that monster in nature, an impious woman, 
was never heard of among them. 

Indeed, it was on the females that the task of 'religious 
instruction generally devolved ; and in all cases where the 
heart is interested, whoever teaches, at the same time learns. 

Before I quit this subject, I must observe a singular coin- 
cidence ; not only the training of children, but of plants, such 
as needed peculiar care or skill to rear them, w^as the female 
province. Every one in town or country had a garden ; but 
all the more hardy plants grew in the field, in rows, amidst 
the hills, as they were called, of Indian corn. These lofty 
plants sheltered them from the sun, while the same hoeing 
served for both : there cabbages, potatoes, and other esculent 
roots, with variety of gourds, grew to a great size, and were 
of an excellent quality. Kidney-beans, asparagus, celery, 
great variety of salads and sweet herbs, cucumbers, &c., 
w^ere only admitted into the garden, into which no foot of 
man intruded, after it was dug in spring. Here were no 
trees ; those grew in the orchard in high perfection. Straw- 
berries, and many high-flavored wild fruits of the shrub kind, 
abounded so much in the woods, that they did not think of 
cultivating them in their gardens, which were extremely neat 
but small, and not by any means calculated for walking in. 
I think I yet see, what I have so often beheld both in town 
and country, a respectable mistress of a family going out to 
her garden, in an April morning, with her great calash, her 
little painted basket of seeds, and her rake over her shoulder, 
to her garden labors. These were by no means merely 
figurative, 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 31 

" From morn till noon, from noon till dewy eve," 
a woman, in very easy circumstances, and abundantly gentle 
in form and manners, would sow, and plant, and rake, inces- 
santly. These fair gardeners were also great florists ; their 
emulation and solicitude in this pleasing employment, did 
indeed produce "flowers worthy of Paradise.'' Though not 
fcset in " curious knots," they were arranged in beds, the va- 
rieties of each kind by themselves ; this, if not varied and 
elegant, was at least rich and gay. To the Schuylers this 
description did not apply ; they had gardens, and their gar- 
dens were laid out in the European manner. 

Perhaps I should reserve my description of the manner of 
living in that country for that period, when, by the exertions 
of a few humane and enlightened individuals, it assumed a 
more regular and determinate form. Yet as the same outline 
was preserved through all the stages of its progression, I 
know not but that it may be best to sketch it entirely, before 
I go farther ; that the few and simple facts which my narra- 
tive aflfords may not be clogged by explanations relative to 
the customs, or to any other peculiarities, which can only be 
understood by g. previous acquaintance with the nature of the 
country, its political relations, and the manners of the people : 
my recollection all this while has been merely confined to 
Albany, and its precincts. At New York there was always 
a governor, a few troops, and a kind of little court kept ; there 
too was a mixed, and in some degree, polished society. To 
this the accession of many families of French Huguenots, 
rather above the middling rank, contributed not a little : those 
conscientious exiles had more knowledge and piety than any 
other class of the inhabitants ; their religion seemed indeed 
endeared to them, by what they had suffered for adhering to 
it. Their number and wealth was such as enabled them to 
build, not only a street, but a very respectable church, in the 
new city. In this place of worship, within my recollection, 
service continued to be celebrated in the French language, 
though the original congregation was by that time much 
blended in the mass of general society. It was the custom 
of the inhabitants of the upper settlement, who had any pre- 
tensions to superior culture or polish, among which number 
Mr. Schuyler stood foremost, to go once a year to New York, 
where all the law courts were held, and all the important 



32 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

business of the province was transacted. Here too they sent 
their children occasionally to reside with their relations, and to 
learn the more polished manners and language of the capital. 
Ti: inhabitants of that city, on the other hand, delighted in 
a summer excursion to Albany. The beautiful, and in some 
places highly singular banks of the river, rendered a voyage 
to its source both amusing and interesting, while the primi* 
tive manners of the inhabitants diverted the gay and idle, and 
pleased the thoughtful and speculative. 

Let me now be indulged in drawing a picture of the abode 
of my childhood just as, at this time, it presents itself to my 
mind. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Description of Albany. — Manner of living there. — Hermitage, &c. 

The city of Albany stretched along the banks of the Hud- 
son ; one very wide and long street lay parallel to the river, 
the intermediate space between it and the shore being occu- 
pied by gardens. A small but steep hill rose above the centre 
of the town, on which stood a fort, intended (but very ill 
adapted) for the defence of the place, and of the neighboring 
country. From the foot of this hill, another street was built, 
sloping pretty rapidly down till it joined,.the one before men- 
tioned that ran along the river. This street was still wider 
than the other ; it was only paved on each side', the middle 
being occupied by public edifices. These consisted of a 
market-place, or guard-house, a town hall, and the English 
and Dutch churches. The English church, belonging to the 
Episcopal persuasion, and in the diocese of the bishop of 
London, stood at the foot of the hill, at the upper end of the 
street. The Dutch church was situated at the bottom of the 
descent where the street terminated ; two irregular streets, 
not so broad, but equally long, ran parallel to those, and a 
few even ones opened between them. The town, in propor- 
tion to its population, occupied a great space of ground. This 
city, in short, was a kind of semi-rural establishment ; every 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 



house had its garden, well, and a little green behind ; beforel 
every door a tree was planted, rendered interesting by being 
coeval with some beloved member of the family ; many of * 
their trees were of a prodigious size and extraordinary beau- 
ty, but without regularity, every one planting the kind that 
best pleased him, or which he thought would afford the most 
agreeable shade to the open portico at his door, which was 
surrounded by seats, and ascended by a few steps. It was 
in these that each domestic group was seated in summer 
evenings to enjoy the balmy twilight, or the serenely clear 
moonlight. Each family had a cow, fed in a common pas- 
ture at the end of the town. In the evening the herd returned 
all together, of their own accord, with their tinkling bells 
hung at their necks, along the wide and grassy street, to 
their wonted sheltering trees, to be milked at their masters' 
doors. Nothing could be more pleasing to a simple and be- 
nevolent mind than to see thus, at one view, all the inhabit- ' 
ants of a town, which contained not one very rich or very 
poor, very knowing or very ignorant, very rude or very pol- 
ished, individual ; to see all these children of nature enjoying 
in easy indolence, or social intercourse, 

" The cool, the fragrant, and the dusky hour," 

clothed in the plainest habits, and with minds as undisguised 
and artless. These primitive beings were dispersed in 
porches, grouped according to similarity of years and incli- 
nations. At one door were young matrons, at another the 
elders of the people, at a third the youths and maidens, gayly 
chatting or singing together, while the children played round 
the trees, or waited by the cows, for the chief ingredient of 
their frugal supper, which they generally ate sitting on the 
steps in the open air. This picture, so familiar to my im- 
agination, has led me away from my purpose, which was to 
describe the rural economy, and modes of living in this pa- 
triarchal city. 

At one end of the town, as I observed before, was a com- 
mon pasture where all the cattle belonging to the inhabitants 
grazed together. A never-failing instinct guided each home 
to her master's door in the evening, where, being treated with 
a few vegetables and a little fat, which is indispensably ne- 
cessary for cattle in this country, they patiently waited the 



34 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

night ; and after being milked in the morning, they went off 
in slow and regular procession to the pasture. At the other 
end of the town was a fertile plain along the river, three miles 
in length, and near a mile broad. This was all divided into 
lots, where every inhabitant raised Indian corn sufficient for 
the food of two or three slaves, (the greatest number that each 
family ever possessed,) and for his horses, pigs, and poultry ; 
their flour and other grain they purchased from farmers in the 
vicinity. Above the town, a long stretch to the westward 
was occupied first by sandy hills, on which grew bilberries 
of uncommon size' and flavor in prodigious quantities ; be- 
yond, rise heights of a poor hungry soil, thinly covered with 
stunted pines, or dwarf oak. Yet in this comparatively bar- 
ren tract there were several wild and picturesque spots, where 
small brooks, running in deep and rich bottoms, nourished on 
their banks every vegetable beauty ; there some of the most 
industrious early settlers had cleared the luxuriant wood from 
these charming glens, and built neat cottages for their slaves, 
surrounded with little gardens and orchards, sheltered from 
every blast, wildly picturesque, and richly productive. Those 
small sequestered vales had an attraction that I know not 
how to describe, and which probably resulted from the air of 
deep repose that reigned there, and the strong contrast which 
they exhibited to the surrounding sterility. One of these 
was in my time inhabited by a hermit. He was a French- 
man, and did not seem to inspire much veneration among the 
Albanians. They imagined, or had heard, that he retired 
to that solitude in remorse for some fatal duel in which he 
had been engaged ; and considered him as an idolater be- 
cause he had an image of the Virgin in his hut. I think he 
retired to Canada at last ; but I remember being ready to 
worship him for the sanctity with which my imagination in- 
vested him, and being cruelly disappointed because I was 
not permitted to visit him. These cottages were in summer 
occupied by some of the negroes, who cultivated the grounds 
about them, and served as a place of joyful liberty to the chil- 
dren of the family on holidays, and as a nursery for the 
young negroes, whom it was the custom to rear very tenderly, 
and instruct very carefully. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 35 



CHAPTER VII. 

Gentle treatment of Slaves among the Albanians. — Consequent attach- 
ment of Domestics. — Reflections on Servitude. 

In the society I am describing, even the dark aspect of 
slavery was softened into a smile. And I must, in justice to 
the best possible masters, say that a great deal of that tran- 
quillity and comfort, to call it by no higher name, which dis- 
tinguished this society from all others, was owing to the rela- 
tion between master and servant being better understood here 
than in any other place. Let me not be detested as an ad- 
vocate for slavery, when I say that I think I have never seen 
people so happy in servitude as the domestics of the Albani- 
ans. One reason was, (for I do not now speak of the virtues 
of their masters,) that each family had few of them, and that 
there were no field negroes. They would remind one of 
Abraham's servants, who were all born in the house ; this 
was exactly their case. They were baptized too, and shared 
the same religious instruction with the children of the family; 
and, for the first years, there was little or no difi'erence with 
regard to food or clothing between their children and those 
of their masters. 

When a negro-woman's child attained the age of three 
years, it was solemnly presented, the first New Year's day 
following, to a son or daughter, or other young relative of the 
family who was of the same sex with the child so presented. 
The child to whom the young negro was given, immediately 
presented it with some piece of money and a pair of shoes ; 
and from that day the strongest attachment grew between the 
domestic and the destined owner. I have nowhere met with 
instances of friendship more tender and generous than that 
which here subsisted between the slaves and their masters 
and mistresses. Extraordinary proofs of them have been 
often given in the course of hunting or of Indian tradmg; 
when a young man and his slave have gone to the trackless 
woods together, in the case of fits of the ague, loss of a canoe, 
and other casualties happening near hostile Indians. The 
slave has been known, at the imminent risk of his life, to 



36 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

carry his disabled master through unfrequented wilds, with 
labor and fidelity scarce credible ; and the master has been 
equally tender on similar occasions of the humble friend who 
stuck closer than a brother ; who was baptized with the same 
baptism, nurtured under the same roof, and often rocked in 
the same cradle with himself. These gifts of domestics to 
the younger members of the family were not irrevocable ; yet 
they were very rarely withdrawn. If the kitchen family did 
not increase in proportion to that of the master, young chil- 
dren were purchased from some family where they abounded, 
to furnish those attached servants to the rising progeny. They 
were never sold without consulting their mother, who, if ex- 
pert and sagacious, had a great deal to say in the family, and 
would not allow her children to go into any family with whose 
domestics she was not acquainted. These negro-women 
piqued themselves on teaching their children to be excellent 
servants, well knowing servitude to be their lot for life, and 
that it could only be sweetened by making themselves par- 
ticularly useful, and excelling in their department. If they 
did their work well, it is astonishing, when I recollect it, 
what liberty of speech was allowed to those active and pru- 
dent mothers. They would chide, reprove, and expostulate 
in a manner that we would not endure from our hired servants ; 
and sometimes exert fully as much authority over the children 
of the family as the parents, conscious that they were entirely 
in their power. They did not crush freedom of speech and 
opinion in those by whom they knew they were beloved, 
and who watched with incessant care over their interest and 
comfort. Affectionate and faithful as these homebred ser- 
vants were in general, there were some instances (but very 
few) of those who, through levity of mind, or a love of liquor 
or finery, betrayed their trust, or habitually neglected their 
duty. In these cases, after every means had been used to 
reform them, no severe punishments were inflicted at home. 
But the terrible sentence, which they dreaded worse than 
death, was passed — they were sold to Jamaica. The necessity 
of selling them was bewailed by the whole family as a most 
dreadful calamity, and the culprits were carefully watched on 
their way to New York, lest they should evade the sentence 
by self-destruction. 

One must have lived among those placid and humane peo- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 37 

pie to be sensible thafiservitude, hopeless, endless servitude, 
could exist with so little servility and fear on the one side, 
and so little harshness or even sternness of authority on the 
other. In Europe, the footing on which service is placed in 
consequence of the corruptions of society, hardens the heart, 
destroys confidence, and embitters life. The deceit and 
venality of servants not absolutely dishonest, put it out of 
one's power to love or trust them. And if, in hopes of hav- 
mg people attached to us who will neither betray our confi- 
dence nor corrupt our children, we are at pains to rear them 
from childhood, and give them a religious and moral educa- 
tion ; after all our labor, others of their own class may seduce 
them away to those who can afford to pay higher for their 
services. This is not the case in a few remote districts, 
from which surrounding mountains seem to exclude the con- 
tagion of the world ; there some traces of fidelity and affec- 
tion among domestics still remain. But it must be remarked 
that, in those very districts, it is usual to treat inferiors with 
courtesy and kindness, and to consider those domestics who 
marry out of the family as holding a kind of relation to it, and 
still claiming protection. In short, the corruption of that 
class of people is, doubtless, to be attributed to the example 
of their superiors. But how severely are those superiors 
punished ? Why this general indifierence about home ? why 
are the household gods, why is the sacred hearth so wantonly 
abandoned ? Alas ! the charm of home is destroyed, since 
our children, educated in distant seminaries, are strangers in 
the paternal mansion ; and our servants, like mere machines, 
move on their mercenary track without feeling or exciting one 
kind or generous sentiment. Home, thus despoiled of all its 
charms, is no longer the scene of any enjoyments but such 
;is wealth can purchase. At the same time we feel there a 
nameless cold privation, and, conscious that money can pro- 
f.ure the same enjoyments with more variety elsewhere, we 
.substitute these futile and evanescent pleasures for the peren- 
nial spring of calm satisfaction, " without o'erflowing full," 
which is fed by the exercise of the kindly affections ; and 
soon indeed must those stagnate, where there are not proper 
objects to excite them. — I have been forced into this painful 
digression by unavoidable comparisons. 

Amidst all this mild and really tender indulgence to theii 
4 



38 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

negroes, these colonists had not the smallest scruple of con- 
science with regard to the right by which they held them in 
subjection. Had that been the case, their singular humanity 
would have been incompatible with continued injustice. But 
the truth is, that of law the generality of those people knew lit- 
tle ; and of philosophy, nothing at all. They sought their code 
of morality in the Bible, and imagined that they there found 
this hapless race condemned to perpetual slavery ; and thought 
nothing remained for them but to lighten the chains of their 
fellow Christians, after having made them such. I neither 
" extenuate," nor " set down in malice," but merely record the 
fact. At the same time it is but justice to record, also, a sin- 
gular instance of moral delicacy distinguishing this settlement 
from every other in the like circumstances ; though, from their 
simple and kindly modes of life, they were from infancy in 
habits of familiarity with their negroes, yet being early taught 
that nature had placed between them a barrier, which it was 
in a high degree criminal and disgraceful to pass, they con- 
sidered a mixture of such distinct races with abhorrence, as 
a violation of her laws. This greatly conduced to the pre- 
servation of family happiness and concord. An ambiguous 
race, which the law does not acknowledge, and who (if they 
have any moral sense, must be as much ashamed of their 
parents as these last are of them) are certainly a dangerous, 
because degraded part of the community. How much more 
so must be those unfortunate beings who stand in the predic- 
ament of the bat in the fable, whom both birds and beasts 
disowned ? I am sorry to say that the progress of the Brit- 
ish army, when it arrived, might be traced by a spurious and 
ambiguous race of this kind. But of a mulatto born before 
their arrival, I only remember a single instance ; and from the 
regret and wonder it occasioned, considered it as singular. 
Colonel Schuyler, of whom I am to speak, had a relation so 
weak and defective in capacity, that he never was intrusted 
with any thing of his own, and lived an idle bachelor about 
the family. In process of time, a favorite negro-woman, to 
the great' offence and scandal of the family, bore a child to 
him, whose color gave testimony to the relation. The boy 
was carefully educated ; and when he grew Up, a farm was 
allotted to him well stocked and fertile, but " in depth of 
woods embraced," about two miles back from the family-seat. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 39 

A destitute white woman, who had somehow wandered from 
the older colonies, was induced to marry him ; and all the 
branches of the family thought it incumbent on them, now 
and then, to pay a quiet visit to Chalk, (for so, for some un- 
known reason, they always called him.) I have been in 
Chalk's house myself, and a most comfortable abode it was ; 
but I considered him as a mysterious and anomalous being, 

I have dwelt the longer on this singular instance of sla- 
very, existing devoid of its attendant horrors, because the 
fidelity and affection resulting from a bond of union so early 
formed between master and servant contributed so very much 
to the safety of individuals, as well as to the general comfort 
of society, as will hereafter appear. 



CHAPTER VIII. 
Education and early Habits of the Albanians described. 

The foundations, both of friendship and still tenderer at- 
tachments, were here laid very early by an institution which 
I always thought had been peculiar to Albany, till I found, in 
Dr. Moore's View of Society on the Continent, an account of 
a similar custom subsisting in Geneva. The children of the 
town were all divided into companies, as they called them, 
from five or six years of age, till they became marriageable. 
How those companies first originated, or what were their exact 
regulations, I cannot say ; though I, belonging to none, occa- 
sionally mixed with several, yet always as a stranger, not- 
withstanding that I spoke their current language fluently. 
Every company contained as many boys as girls. But I do 
not know that there was any limited number ; only this I re- 
collect, that a boy and girl of each company, who were older, 
cleverer, or had some other pre-eminence above the rest, 
were called heads of the company, and, as such, were obeyed 
by the others. Whether they were voted in, or attained their 
pre-emnience by a tacit acknowledgment of their superiority, 
I know not ; but however it was attained, it was never dis- 
puted. The company of little children had also their heads. 



40 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

All the children of the same age were not in one company ; 
there were a* least three or four of equal ages, who had a 
strong rivalry with each other ; and children of different ages, 
in the same family, belonged to different companies. Wherever 
there is human nature there will be a degree of emulation, 
strife, and a desire to lower others, that we may exalt our- 
selves. Dispassionate as my friends comparatively were, 
and bred up in the highest attainable candor and innocence, 
they regarded the company most in competition with their 
own with a degree of jealous animosity. Each company, at 
a certain time of the year, went in a body to gather a partic- 
ular kind of berries, to the hill. It was a sort of annual fes- 
tival, attended with religious punctuality. Every company 
had a uniform for this purpose ; that is to say, very pretty 
light baskets made by the Indians, with lids and handles, 
which hung over the arm, and were adorned w4th various 
colors. One company would never allow the least degree of 
taste to the other in this instance ; and was sure to vent its 
whole stock of spleen in decrying the rival baskets. Nor 
would they ever admit that the rival company gathered near 
so much fruit on these excursions as they did. The parents 
of these children seemed very much to encourage this man- 
ner of marshalling and dividing themselves. Every child 
was permitted to entertain the whole company on its birthday, 
and once besides, during winter and spring. The master and 
mistress of the family always were bound to go from home 
on these occasions, while some old domestic was left to attend 
and watch over them, with an ample provision of tea, choco- 
late, preserved and dried fruits, nuts, and cakes of various 
kinds, to which was added cider or a syllabub ; for these 
young friends met at four, and did not part till nine or ten, and 
amused themselves with the utmost gayety and freedom in any 
way their fancy dictated. I speak from hearsay ; for no per- 
son that does not belong to the company is ever admitted to 
these meetings ; other children or young people visit occa- 
sionally, and are civilly treated, but they admit of no intima- 
cies beyond their company. The consequence of these ex- 
clusive and early intimacies was, that, grown up, it was reck- 
oned a sort of apostacy to marry out of one's company, and 
indeed it did not often happen. The girls, from the example 
of their mothers, rather than any compulsion, very early be- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 41 

came notable and industrious, being constantly employed in 
knitting stockings, and making clothes for the family and 
slaves : they even made all the boys' clothes. This was the 
more necessary, as all articles of clothing were extremely 
dear. Though all the necessaries of life, and some luxuries, 
abounded, money, as yet, was a scarce commodity. This 
industry was the more to be admired, as children were here 
indulged to a degree that, in our vitiated state of society, 
would have rendered them good for nothing. But there, 
where ambition, vanity, and the more turbulent passions were 
scarcely awakened ; where pride, founded on birth, or any 
external pre-eminence, was hardly known ; and where the 
atfeclions flourished fair and vigorous, unchecked by the 
thorns and thistles with which our minds are cursed in a 
more advanced state of refinement, affection restrained pa- 
rents from keeping their children at a distance, and inflicting 
harsh punishments. But then they did not treat them like 
apes or parrots, by teaching them to talk with borrowed words 
and ideas, and afterwards gratifying their own vanity by ex- 
hibiting these premature wonders to company, or repeating 
their sayings. They were tenderly cherished, and early 
taught that they owed all their enjoyments to the Divine 
Source of beneficence, to whom they were finally accounta- 
ble for their actions ; for the rest, they were very much left 
to nature, and permitted to range about at full liberty in their 
earliest years, covered in summer with some slight and cheap 
garb, which merely kept the sun from them, and in winter 
with some warm habit, in which convenience only was con- 
sulted. Their dress of ceremony was never put on but when 
their company were assembled. They were extremely fond 
of their children ; but, luckily for the latter, never dreamed 
of being vain of their immature wit and parts, which accounts, 
in some measure, for the great scarcity of coxcombs among 
them. The children returned the fondness of their parents 
with such tender affection, that they feared giving them pain 
as much as ours do punishment, and very rarely wounded 
their feelings by neglect, or rude answers. Yet the hoys 
were often wilful and giddy at a certain age, the girls being 
sooner tamed and domesticated. 

These youths were apt, whenever they could carry a gun, 
(which they did at a very early period,) to follow some fa- 

4* 



42 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



vorite negro to the woods, and, while he was employed in 
felling trees, to range the whole day in search of game, to the 
neglect of all intellectual improvement ; and they thus con- 
tracted a love of savage liberty which might, and in some in- 
stances did, degenerate into licentious and idle habits. In- 
deed, there were three stated periods in the year, when, for 
a few days, young and old, masters and slaves, were aban- 
doned to unruly enjoyment, and neglected every serious oc- 
cupation for pursuits of this nature. 

We who occupy countries fully inhabited, can form no 
idea of the multitude of birds and animals that nature pro- 
vides to consume her waste fertility in those regions unex- 
plored by man. In the interior of the province, the winter is 
much colder than might be supposed from the latitude in 
which it lies, which is only 42° 36'; this is owing to the 
keen north winds which blow constantly for four or five 
months over vast frozen lakes and snowy tracts, in the direc- 
tion of Canada. The snow, too, lies very deep ; but when 
once they are visited by the south wind in March, its literally 
warm approach dissolves the snow like magic ; and one 
never sees another wintry day till the season of cold returns. 
These southern winds seem to flow in a rapid current, unin- 
terrupted by mountains or other obstacle, from the burning 
sands of the Floridas, Georgia, and the Carolinas, and bring 
with them a degree of warmth, that appears no more the 
natural result of the situation, than the intense cold of winter 
does in that season. 

Along the sea-banks in all these southern provinces, are 
low sandy lands, which never were nor will be inhabited, 
covered with the berry-bearing myrtle, from which wax is 
extracted fit for candles. Behind these banks are woods 
and unwholesome swamps of great extent. The myrtle 
groves formerly mentioned .afford shelter and food to count- 
less multitudes of pigeons in winter, when their fruit is in 
season ; while wild geese and ducks, in numbers nearly as 
great, pass the winter in the impenetrable swamps behind. 
Some time in the month of April, a. general emigration takes 
place to the northward, first of the geese and ducks, and then 
of the pigeons ; they keep the direction of the sea-coast till 
they come to the mouths of the great rivers, and then follow 
their course till they reach the great lakes in the interior, 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 43 

where nature has provided for them with the same liberality 
as in their winter haunts. On the banks of these lakes there 
are large tracts of ground, covered with a plant taller and 
more luxuriant than the wild carrot, but something resembling 
it, on the seeds of which the pigeons feed all the summer, 
while they are breeding and rearing their young. When 
they pass in spring, which they always do in the same 
track, they go in great numbers, and are very fat. Their 
progression northward and southward begins always about 
the vernal and autumnal equinoxes ; and it is this that ren- 
ders the carnage so great when they pass over inhabited 
districts. They begin to fly in the dawn, and are never seen 
after nine or ten o'clock in the morning, possibly feeding and 
resting in the woods all the rest of the day. If the morning 
be dry and windy, all the fowlers (that is, everybody) are 
disappointed, for then the pigeons fly so high that no shot 
can reach them ; but in a cloudy morning the carnage is in- 
credible ; and it is singular that their migration falls out at 
the times of the year when the weather (even in this serene 
climate) is generally cloudy. This migration, as it passed by, 
occasioned, as I said before, a total relaxation from all em- 
ployments, and a kind of drunken gayety, though it was rather 
slaughter than sport ; and, for above a fortnight, pigeons in 
pies and soups, and every way they could be dressed, were 
the food of the inhabitants. These were immediately suc- 
ceeded by wild geese and ducks, which concluded the car- 
nival for that season, which was to be renewed in September. 
About six weeks after the passage of these birds, sturgeons of 
a large size, and in great quantity, made their appearance in 
the river. Again the same ardor seemed to pervade all ages 
in pursuit of this new object. Every family had a canoe ; 
and on this occasion all were launched ; and these perse- 
vering fishers traced the course of the sturgeon up the river ; 
followed them by torch light ; and often continued two nights 
upon the water, never returning till they had loaded their 
canoes with this valuable fish, and many other very excellent 
in their kinds, that come up the river usually at the same 
time. The sturgeon not only furnished them with good part 
of their food in the summer months, but was pickled or dried 
for future use or exportation. 



44 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



CHAPTER IX. 

Description of the manner in which the Indian Traders set out on their 
first adventure. 

To return to the boys, as all young men were called here 
till they married. Thus early trained to a love of sylvan 
sports, their characters were unfolded by contingencies. In 
this infant society penal laws lay dormant, and every species 
of coercion was unknown. 

Morals, founded on Christianity, were fostered by the sweet 
influence of the charities of life. The reverence which 
children in particular had for their parents, and the young in 
general for the old, was the chief iDond that held society to- 
gether. This veneration, being founded on esteem, certainly 
could only have existed thus powerfully in an uncorrupted 
community. It had, however, an auxiliary no less powerful. 

Here, indeed, it might with truth be said — 

" Love breathed his infant sighs from anguish free " 

In consequence of the singular mode of associating little 
exclusive parties of children of both sexes, which has been 
already mentioned, endearing intimacies, formed in the age 
of playful innocence, were the precursors of more tender at- 
tachments. 

These were not wrought up to romantic enthusiasm or ex- 
travagant passion by an inflamed imagination, or by the fears 
of rivalry, or the artifices of coquetry, yet they had power 
sufficient to soften the manners and elevate the character of 
the lover. 

I know not if this be the proper place to observe, how much 
of the general order of society, and the happiness of a people, 
depend on marriage being early and universal among them ; 
but of this more hereafter. The desire (undiverted by any 
other passion) of obtaining the object of iheir aflfection, was to 
them a stimulus to early and severe exertion. 'J'he enam- 
ored youth did not listlessly fold his arms and sigh over his 
hopeless or unfortunate passion. Of love not led by hope 
they had not an idea. Their attachments originated at too 
early an age, and in a circle too familiar to give room for 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 45 

those first-sight impressions of which we hear such wonders. 
If the temper of the youth was rash and impetuous, and his 
fair one gentle and complying, they frequently formed a rash 
and precipitate union without consulting their relations, when 
perhaps the elder of the two was not above seventeen. 
This was very quietly borne by the parties aggrieved. The 
relations of both parties met, and with great calmness con- 
sulted on what was to be done. The father of the youth or 
the damsel, whichever it was who had most wealth, or fewest 
children, brought home the young couple ; and the new- 
married man immediately set about a trading adventure, which 
was renewed every season, till he had the means of providing 
a home of his own. Meantime the increase of the younger 
family did not seem an inconvenience, but rather a source of 
delight to the old people ; and an arrangement begun from 
necessity, was often continued through choice for many years 
after. Their tempers, unruffled by the endless jealousies 
and competitions incident to our mode of life, were singularly 
placid, and the love of offspring, where children were truly 
an unmixed blessing, was a common sentiment which united 
all the branches of the family, and predominated over every 
other. The jarring and distrust, the petulance and egotism 
which, distinct from all weightier considerations, would not 
fail to poison concord, were different families to dwell under 
one roof here, were there scarcely known. It is but justice 
to our acquired delicacy of sentiment to say, that the absence 
of refinement contributed to this tranquillity. These primi- 
tive people, if they did not gather the flowers of cultivated 
elegance, were not wounded by the thorns of irritable deli- 
cacy ; they had neither artificial wants nor artificial miseries. 
In short, they were neither too wise to be happy, nor too 
witty to be at rest. 

Thus it was in the case of unauthorized marriages. In 
the more ordinary course of things, love, which makes labor 
light, tamed these young hunters, and transformed them into 
diligent and laborious traders, for the nature of their trade 
included very severe labor. When one of the hoys was 
deeply smitten, his fowling-piece and fishing-rod were at 
once relinquished. He demanded of his father forty or at 
most fifty dollars, a negro boy, and a canoe ; all of a sudden 
he assumed the brow of care and solicitude, and began to 



46 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

smoke, a precaution absolutely necessary to repel aguish 
damps, and troublesome insects. He arrayed himself in a 
habit very little differing from that of the aborigines, into 
whose bounds he was about to penetrate, and, in short, com- 
menced Indian trader. That strange amphibious animal, 
who, uniting the acute senses, the strong instincts, and the 
unconquerable patience and fortitude of the savage, with the 
art, policy, and inventions of the European, encountered in 
the pursuit of gain, dangers and difficulties equal to those 
described in the romantic legends of chivalry. 

The small bark canoe in which this hardy adventurer em- 
barked himself, his fortune, and his faithful squire, (who was 
generally born in the same house, and predestined to his 
service,) was launched amidst the tears and prayers of his 
female relations, among whom was generally included his 
destined bride, who well knew herself to be the motive of 
this perilous adventure. 

The canoe was entirely filled with coarse strouds and 
blankets, guns, powder, beads, &c., suited to the various 
wants and fancies of the natives ; one pernicious article was 
never wanting, and often made a great part of the cargo. 
This was ardent spirits, for which the natives too early ac- 
quired a relish, and the possession of which always proved 
dangerous, and sometimes fatal to the traders. The ]\Io- 
hawks bring their furs and other peltry habitually to the 
stores of their wonted friends and patrons. It was not in 
that easy and safe direction that these trading adventures 
extended. The canoe generally steered northward, towards 
the Canadian frontier. They passed by the Flats and Stone- 
hook in the outset of their journey. Then commenced their 
toils and dangers at the famous waterfall called the Cohoes, 
ten miles above Albany, where three rivers, uniting their 
streams into one, dash over a rocky shelf, and falling into a 
gulf below with great violence, raise clouds of mist bedecked 
with splendid rainbows. This was the Rubicon which they 
had to cross before they plunged into pathless woods, in- 
gulfing swamps, and lakes, the opposite shores of which the 
eye could not reach. At the Cohoes, on account of the ob- 
struction formed by the torrent, they unloaded their canoe, 
and carried it above a mile further upon their shoulders, re- 
turning again for the cargo, which they . were obliged to 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 47 

transport in the same manner. This was but a prelude to 
labors and dangers incredible to those who dwell at ease. 
Further on, much longer carrying places frequently recurred ; 
where ihey had the vessel and cargo to drag through thickets 
impervious to the day, abounding with snakes and wild 
beasts, which are always to be found on the side of rivers. 

Their provision of food was necessarily small, from fear 
of overloading the slender and unstable conveyance already 
crowded with goods. A little dried beef and Indian-corn 
meal was their whole stock, though they formerly enjoyed 
both plenty and variety. They were in a great measure 
obliged to depend upon their own skill in hunting and fish- 
ing, and on the hospitality of the Indians : for hunting, in- 
deed, they had small leisure, their time being sedulously 
employed by the obstacles that retarded their progress. In 
their slight and fragile canoes, they often had to cross great 
lakes, on which the wind raised a terrible surge. Afraid of 
going into the track of the French traders, who were always 
dangerous rivals, and often declared enemies, they durst not 
follow the direction of the river St. Lawrence ; but, in search 
of distant territories and unknown tribes, were wont to de- 
viate to the east and south-vv^est, forcing their painful way 
towards the source of " rivers unknown to song," whose 
winding course was often interrupted by shallows, and oftener 
still by fallen trees of great magnitude lying across, which it 
was requisite to cut through with their hatchets before they 
could proceed. Small rivers which wind through fertile 
valleys, in this country, are peculiarly liable to this obstruc- 
tion. The chesnut and hickory grow to so large a size in 
this kind of soil, that in time they become top-heavy, and 
are then the first prey to the violence of the winds ; and 
thus falling, form a kind of accidental bridge over these 
rivers. 

When the toils and dangers of the day were over, the still 
greater terrors of the night commenced. In this, which 
might literally be styled the howling wilderness, they were 
forced to sleep in the open air, which was frequently loaded 
with the humid evaporation of swamps, ponds, and redun- 
dant vegetation. Here the axe must be again employed to 
procure the materials of a large fire even in the warmest 
weather. This precaution was necessary, that the flies and 



48 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

moschetoes might be expelled by the smoke, and that the 
wolves and bears might be deterred by the flame from en- 
croaching on their place of rest. But the light which af- 
forded them protection created fresh disturbance. 

" Loud as the wolves on Ol-ca's stormy steep, 
Howl to the roarings of the northern deep," 

the American wolves howl to the fires kindled to affright 
them, watching the whole night on the surrounding hills to 
keep up a concert which truly " rendered night hideous :" 
meantime the bullfrogs, terrible though harmless, and smaller 
kinds of various tones and in countless numbers, seemed all 
night calling to each other from opposite swamps, and formed 
the most dismal assemblage of discordant sounds. Though 
serpents abounded very much in the woods, few of them were 
noxious. The rattlesnake, the only dangerous reptile, was 
not so frequently met with as in the neighboring provinces ; 
and the remedy which nature has bestowed as an antidote to 
his bite was very generally known. The beauties of rural 
and varied scenery seldom compensated the traveller for the 
dangers of his journey. " In the close prison of innumerous 
boughs," and on ground thick with underwood, there was 
little of landscape open to the eye. The banks of streams 
and lakes no doubt afforded a rich variety of trees and plants ; 
the former of a most majestic size, the latter of singulai 
beauty and luxuriance ; but otherwise they only travelled 
through a grove of chesnuts or oak, to arrive at another of 
maple, or poplar, or a vast stretch of pines and other ever- 
greens. If by chance they arrived at a hill crowned with 
cedars, v/hich afforded some command of prospect, still the 
gloomy and interminable forest, only varied with different 
shades of green, met the eye, which every way turned, while 
the mind, repelled by solitude so vast, and silence so profound, 
turned inward on itself. Nature here wore a veil rich and 
grand, but impenetrable ; at least this was the impression 
likely to be made on a European mind ; but a native Ameri- 
can, familiar from childhood with the productions and inhab- 
itants of the woods, sought the nuts and wild fruits with which 
they abounded, the nimble squirrel in all its varied forms, the 
architect beaver, the savage racoon, and the stately elk, where 
we should see nothing but awful solitudes untrod by hu- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 49 

man foot. It is inconceivable how well these young trav- 
ellers, taught by their Indian friends, and the experimental 
knowledge of their fathers, understood every soil and its pro- 
ductions. A boy of twelve years old would astonish you 
with his accurate knowledge of plants, their properties, and 
their relation to the soil and to each other. " Here," said 
he, " is a wood of red oak, when it is grubbed up this will 
be loam and sand, and make good Indian-corn ground. This 
chesniit wood abounds with strawberries, and is the very best 
soil for wheat. The poplar wood yonder is not worth clear- 
ing ; the soil is always wet and cold. There is a hickory 
wood, where the soil is always rich and deep, and does not 
run out ; such and such plants that dye blue, or orange, grow 
under it." 

This is merely a slight epitome of the wide views of nature 
that are laid open to these people from their very infancy, the 
acquisition of this kind of knowledge being one of their first 
amusements ; yet those who were capable of astonishing you 
by the extent and variety of this local skill, in objects so va- 
ried and so complicated, never heard of a petal, corolla, or 
stigma, in their lives, nor even of the strata of that soil, with 
the productions and properties of which they were so inti- 
mately acquainted. 

Without compass, or guide of any kind, the traders steered 
through these pathless forests. In those gloomy days, when 
the sun is not visible, or in winter, when the falling snows 
obscured his beams, they made an incision on the bark on 
the different sides of a tree ; that on the north was invariably 
thicker than the other, and covered with moss in much greater 
quantity ; and this never-failing indication of the polar influ- 
ence was to those sagacious travellers a sufficient guide. 
They had indeed several subordinate monitors. Knowing, 
so well as they did, the quality of the soil by the trees or 
plants most prevalent, they could avoid a swamp, or approach 
with certainty to a river or high ground, if such was their 
wish, by means that to us would seem incomprehensible. 
Even the savages seldom visited these districts, except in the 
dead of winter ; they had towns, as they called their summer 
dwellings, on the banks of the lakes and rivers in the inte- 
rior, where their great fishing places were. In the winter, 
their grand himting parties were in places more remote from 

5 



50 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

our boundaries, where the deer, and other larger animals, took 
shelter from the neighborhood of man. These single adven- 
turers sought the Indians in their spring haunts as soon as 
the rivers were open ; there they had new dangers to appre- 
hend. It is well known that among the natives of America 
revenge was actually a virtue, and retaliation a positive duty. 
While faith was kept with these people they never became 
aggressors. But the Europeans, by the force of bad exam- 
ple, and strong liquors, seduced them from their wonted 
probity. Yet from the first, their notion of justice and re- 
venge was of that vague and general nature that if they con- 
sidered themselves injured, or if one of their tribe had been 
killed by an inhabitant of any one of our settlements, they 
considered any individual of our nation as a proper subject 
for retribution. This seldom happened among our allies ; 
indeed, never, but when the injury was obvious, and our peo- 
ple very culpable. But the avidity of gain often led our tra- 
ders to deal with Indians, among whom the French possessed 
a degree of influence, which produced a smothered animosity 
to our nation. When, at length, after conquering numberless 
obstacles, they arrived at the place of their destination, these 
daring adventurers found occasion for no little address, pa- 
tience, and indeed courage, before they could dispose of their 
cargo, and return safely with the profits. 

The successful trader had now laid the foundation of his 
fortune, and approved himself worthy of her for whose sake 
he encountered all these dangers. It is utterly inconceivable, 
how even a single season, spent in this manner, ripened the 
mind, and changed the whole appearance, nay, the very char- 
acter of the countenance of these demi-savages, for such they 
seem on returning from among their friends in the forests. 
Lofty, sedate, and collected, they seem masters of themselves, 
and independent of others ; though sunburnt and austere, one 
scarcely knows them till they unbend. By this Indian like- 
ness I do not think them by any means degraded. One must 
have seen these people (the Indians I mean) to have any idea 
what a noble animal man is, while unsophisticated. I have 
been often amused with the descriptions that philosophers, 
in their closets, who never in their lives saw a man but in 
his improved or degraded state, give of uncivilized people ; 
•not recollecting that they are at the same time uncorrupted. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 51 



Voyagers, who have not their language, and merely see them 
transiently, to wonder and be wondered at, are equally stran- 
gers to the real character of man in a social, though unpol- 
ished state. It is no criterion to judge of the state of society 
by the roaming savages (truly such) who are met with on 
these inhospitable coasts, where nature is niggardly of her 
gifts, and where the skies frown continually on her hard- 
fated children. For some good reason, to us unknown, it is 
requisite that human beings should be scattered through all 
habitable space, " till gradual life goes out beneath the pole ;" 
and to beings so destined, what misery would result from 
social tenderness and fine perceptions. Of the class of so- 
cial beings (for such indeed they were) of whom I speak, 
let us judge from the traders who know their language and 
customs, and from the adopted prisoners who have spent 
years among them. How unequivocal, how consistent is 
the testimony they bear to their humanity, friendship, forti- 
tude, fidelity, and generosity ; but the indulgence of the 
recollections thus suggested have already led me too far from 
my subject. 

The joy that the return of these youths occasioned was 
proportioned to the anxiety their perilous journey had pro- 
duced. In some instances the union of the lovers immedi- 
ately took place, before the next career of gainful hardships 
commenced. But the more cautious went to New York in 
winter, disposed of their peltry, purchased a larger cargo, and 
another slave and canoe. The next year they laid out the 
profits of their former adventures in flour and provisions, the 
staple of the province ; this they disposed of at the Bermuda 
Islands, where they generally purchased one of those light 
sailing cedar schooners, for building of which those islanders 
are famous, and proceeding to the Leeward Islands, loaded it 
with a cargo of rum, sugar, and molasses. 

Theywere now ripened into men, and considered as active 
and useful members of society, possessing a stake in the 
common weal. 

The young adventurer had generally finished this process 
by the same time he was one or (at most) two and twenty. 
He now married, or if married before, which pretty often 
was the case, brought home his wife to a house of his own. 
Either he kept his schooner, and loading her with produce, 



52 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



sailed up and down the river all summer, and all winter dis- 
posed of the cargoes he obtained in exchange to more distant 
settlers ; or he sold her, purchased European goods, and kept 
a store. Otherwise he settled in the country, and became 
as diligent in his agricultural pursuits as if he had never 
known any other. - 



CHAPTER X. 

Marriages, Amusements, rural Excursions, &lc., among the Albanians. 

It was in this manner that the young colonist made the 
transition from boyhood to manhood ; from the disengaged and 
careless bachelor, to the provident and thoughtful father of a 
family ; and thus was spent that period of life so critical in 
polished society to those whose condition exempts them from 
manual labor. Love, undiminished by any rival passion, and 
cherished by innocence and candor, was here fixed by the 
power of early habit, and strengthened by similarity of educa- 
tion, tastes, and attachments. Inconstancy, or even indiffer- 
ence among married couples, was unheard of, even where 
there happened to be a considerable disparity in point of in- 
tellect. The extreme affection they bore to their mutual 
offspring was a bond that for ever endeared them to each 
other. Marriage in this colony was always early, very often 
happy, and very seldom indeed interested. When a man 
had a son, there was nothing to be expected with a daughter 
but a well-brought-up female slave, and the furniture of the 
best bedchamber. At the death of her father she obtained 
another division of his effects, such as he thought shfe needed 
or deserved, for there was no rule in these cases. 

Such was the manner in which those colonists began life ; 
nor must it be thought that those were mean or uninformed 
persons. Patriots, magistrates, generals, those who were 
afterwards wealthy, powerful, and distinguished, all, except 
a few elder brothers, occupied by their possessions at home, 
set out in the same manner ; and in after-life, even in the 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 53 

most prosperous circumstances, they delighted to^recount the 
"humble toils and destiny obscure" of their early years. 

The very idea of being ashamed of any thing that was 
neither vicious nor indecent, never entered the head of an 
Albanian. £arly accustomed to this noble simplicity, this 
dignified candor, I cannot express the contempt and disgust 
I felt at the shame of honorable poverty, that extreme desire 
of concealing our real condition, and appearing what we are 
not, which peculiarly characterizes, I had almost said dis- 
graces, the northern part, more particularly, of this island. I 
have often wondered how this vile sentim'ent, that undermines 
all true greatness of mind, should prevail here more than in 
England, where wealth, beyond a doubt, is more respected, 
at least preponderates more over birth, and heart, and mind, 
and many other valuable considerations. As a people we 
certainly are not sordid, why then should we descend to the 
meanness of being ashamed of our condition, while we have 
not done any thing to degrade ourselves ? Why add a sting 
to poverty, and a plume to vanity, by the poor transparent 
artifice that conceals nothing, and only changes pity into scorn? 

Before I quit the subject of Albanian manners, I must 
describe their amusements, and some other peculiarities in 
their modes of life. When I say their amusements, I mean 
those in which they differed from most other people. Such 
as they had in common with others require no description. 
They were exceedingly social, and visited each other very 
frequently, besides the regular assembling together in their 
porches every fine evening. Of the more substantial luxuries 
of the table they knew, little, and of the formal and ceremo- 
nious parts of good breeding still less. 

If you went to spend a day anywhere, you were received 
in a manner we should think very cold. No one rose to 
welcome you ; no one wondered you had not come sooner, 
or apologized for any deficiency in your entertainment. Din- 
ner, which was very early, was served exactly in the same 
manner as if there were only the family. The house indeed 
was so exquisitely neat and well regulated, that you could 
not surprise these people ; they saw each other so often and 
so easily, that intimates made no difference. Of strangers 
they were shy ; not by any means from want of hospitality, 
but from a consciousness that people who had little to value 

5* 



54 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

themselves gn but their knowledge of the modes and ceremo- 
nies of polished life, disliked their sincerity, and despised 
their simplicity. If you showed no insolent wonder,, but 
easily and quietly adopted their manners, you would receive 
from them not only very great civility, but much essential 
kindness. Whoever has not common sense and common 
gratitude enough to pay this tribute of accommodation to those 
among whom he is destined for the time to live, must of 
course be an insulated, discontented being, and come home 
railing at the people whose social comforts he disdained to 
partake. After sharing this plain and unceremonious dinner, 
which might, by the by, chance to be a very good one, but 
was invariably that which was meant for the family, tea was 
served in at a very early hour. And here it was that the 
distinction shown to strangers commenced. Tea here was 
a perfect regale, being served up with various sorts of cakes 
unknown to us, cold pastry, and great quantities of sweet- 
meats and preserved fruits of various kinds, and plates of 
hickory and other nuts ready cracked. In all manner of con- 
fectionary and pastry these people excelled ; and having 
fruit in great plenty, which cost them nothing, and getting 
sugar home at an easy rate, in return for their exports to the 
West Indies, the quantity of these articles used in families, 
otherwise plain and frugal, v/as astonishing. Tea was never 
unaccompanied with one of these petty articles ; but for 
strangers a great display was made. If you stayed supper, 
you were sure of a most substantial though plain one. In 
this meal they departed, out of compliment to the strangers, 
from their usual simplicity. Having dined between twelve 
and one, you were quite prepared for it. You had either 
game or poultry roasted, and always shellfish in the season ; 
you had also fruit in abundance. All this with much neat- 
ness but no form. The seeming coldness with which you 
were first received wore off" by degrees. They could not 
accommodate their topics to you, and scarcely attempted it. 
But the conversation of the old, though limited in regard to 
subjects, was rational and easy, and had in it an air of origi- 
nality and truth not without its attractions. That of the young 
was natural and playful, yet full of localities, which lessened 
its interest to a stranger, but were extremely amusing when 
you became one of the initiated. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 55 

Their diversions (I mean those of the younger class) were 
marked by a simplicity which, to strangers, appeared rude 
and childish. In spring, eight or ten of one company, or re- 
lated to each other, young men and maidens, would set out 
together in a canoe on a kind of rural excursion, of which 
amusement was the object. Yet so fixed were their habits 
of industry, that they never failed to carry their work-baskets 
with them, not as a form, but as an ingredient necessarily 
mixed with their pleasures. They went without attendants ; 
and steered a devious course of four, five, or perhaps more 
miles, till they arrived at some of the beautiful islands with 
which this fine river abounded, or at some sequestered spot 
on its banks, where delicious wild fruits, or particular conve- 
niences for fishing, aflxjrded some attraction. There they 
generally arrived by nine or ten o'clock, having set out in the 
cool and early hour of sunrise. Often they met another party, 
going, perhaps, to a difi'erent place, and joined them, or in- 
duced them to take their route. A basket with tea, sugar, 
and the other usual provisions for breakfast, with the appa- 
ratus for cooking it ; a little rum and fruit for making cool 
weak punch, the usual beverage in the middle of the day, and 
now and then some cold pastry, were the sole provisions ; 
for the great affair was to depend on the sole exertions of the 
hoys in procuring fish, wild ducks, &c., for their dinner. 
They were all, like Indians, ready and dexterous with the 
axe, gun, &c. Whenever they arrived at their destination, 
they sought out a dry and beautiful spot opposite to the river, 
and in an instant, with their axes cleared so much superfluous 
shade or shrubbery as left a semicircular opening, above 
which they bent and twined the boughs so as to form a pleas- 
ant bower, while the girls gathered dried branches, to which 
one of the youths soon set fire with gunpowder, and the break- 
fast, a very regular and cheerful one, occupied an hour or 
two ; the young men then set out to fish, or perhaps to shoot 
birds, and the maidens sat busily down to their work, singing 
and conversing with all the ease and gayety which the be- 
nign serenity of the atmosphere and the beauty of the sur- 
rounding scene were calculated to inspire. After the sultry 
hours had been thus employed, the hoys brought their tribute 
from the river or the wood, and found a rural meal prepared by 
their fair companions, among whom were generally their sisters 



56 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

and the chosen of their hearts. After dinner they all set out 
together to gather wild strawberries, or whatever other fruit 
was in season ; for it was accounted a reproach to come home 
empty-handed. When weary of this amusement, they either 
drank tea in their bower, or returning, landed at some friend's 
on the way, to partake of that refreshment. Here, indeed, 

"Youth's free spirit, innocently gay, 
Enjoyed the most that innocence could give." 

Another of their summer amusements was going to the 
Bush, which was thus managed : a party of young people set 
out in little open carriages, something in the form of a gig, 
of which every family had one ; every one carried something 
with him, as in these cases there was no hunting to furnish 
provision. One brought wine for negus, another tea and cof- 
fee of a superior quality, a third a pigeon pie ; in short, every 
one brought something, no matter how trifling, for there was 
no emulation about the extent of the contribution. In this 
same bush there were spots to which the poorer members of 
the community retired, to work their way with patient indus- 
try, through much privation and hardship, compared to the 
plenty and comfort enjoyed by the rest. They perhaps could 
only afford to have One negro woman, whose children, as they 
grew up, became to their master a source of plenty and ease : 
but in the mean time the good man wrought hard himself, 
having a little occasional aid sent him by his friends. He 
had plenty of the necessaries of life, but no luxuries. His 
wife and daughters milked the cows and wrought at the hay, 
and his house was on a smaller scale than the older settlers 
had theirs, yet he had always one neatly-furnished room : — a 
very clean house, with a pleasant portico before it, generally 
a fine stream beside his dwelling, and some Indian wigwams 
near it. He was wood-surrounded, and seemed absolutely to 
live in the bosom of nature, screened from all the artificial 
ills of life ; and those spots cleared of incumbrances, yet rich 
in native luxuriance, had a wild originality about them not 
easily described. The young parties, or sometimes the elder 
ones, who set out on this woodland excursion, had no fixed 
destination ; they travelled generally in the forenoon, and 
when they were tired of going on the ordinary road, turned 
into the hush^ and whenever they saw an inhabited spot, with 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 57 

the appearance of which they were pleased, they went in 
with all the ease of intimacy, and told them they were come 
to spend the afternoon there. The good people, not in the 
least suprised at this intrusion, very calmly opened the re- 
served apartments, or if it were very hot, received them in 
the portico. The guests produced their stores, and they 
boiled their tea-kettle, and provided cream, nuts, or any pe- 
culiar dainty of the woods which they chanced to have ; and 
they always furnished bread and butter, which were excel- 
lent in their kinds. They were invited to share the collation, 
which they did with great ease and frankness : then dancing, 
or any other amusement that struck their fancy, succeeded. 
They sauntered about the bounds in the evening, and returned 
by moonlight. These good people felt not the least embar- 
rassed at the rustic plainness of every thing about them ; they 
considered themselves as in the way, after a little longer ex- 
ertion of patient industry, to have every thing that the others 
had ; and their guests thought it an agreeable variety in this 
abrupt manner to visit their sequestered abodes. 



CHAPTER XL 

Winter Amusements of the Albanians, «fec. 

In winter the river, frozen to a great depth, formed the 
principal road through the country, and was the scene of all 
those amusements of skating and sledge races common to the 
north of Europe. They used in great parties to visit their 
friends at a distance, and having an excellent and hardy breed 
of horses, flew from place to place over the snow or ice in 
these sledges with incredible rapidity, stopping a little while 
at every house they came to, where they were always well 
received, whether acquainted with the owners or not. The 
night never impeded these travellers, for the atmosphere was 
so pure and serene, and the snow so reflected the moon and 
starlight, that the nights exceeded the days in beauty. 



58 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

In town, all the hoys were extravagantly fond of a diver- 
sion that to us would appear a very odd and childish one. 
The great street of the town, in the midst of which, as has 
been formerly mentioned, stood all the churches and public 
buildings, sloped down from the hill on which the fort stood, 
towards the river ; between the buildings was an unpaved 
carriage-road, the footpath beside the houses being the only 
part of the street which was paved. In winter this sloping 
descent, continued for more than a quarter of a mile, ac- 
quired firmness from the frost, and became extremely slippery. 
Then the amusement commenced. Every boy and youth in 
town, from eight to eighteen, had a little low sledge, made 
with a rope like a bridle to the front, by which one could drag 
it by the hand. On this one or two at most could sit, and 
the sloping descent being made as smooth as a looking-glass, 
by sliders' sledges, &c., perhaps a hundred at once set out 
in succession from the top of the street, each seated in his 
little sledge with the rope in his hand, which, drawn to the 
right or left, served to guide him. He pushed it off with a 
little stick, as one would launch a boat ; and then, with the 
most astonishing velocity, precipitated by the weight of the 
owner, the little machine glided past, and was at the lower 
end of the street in an instant. What could be so peculiarly 
delightful in this rapid and smooth descent, I could never dis- 
cover ; yet in a more retired place, and on a smaller scale, I 
have tried the amusement ; but to a young Albanian, sleighing, 
as he called it, was one of the first joys of life, though at- 
tended with the drawback of dragging his sledge to the top 
of the declivity every time he renewed his flight, for such it 
might well be called. In the managing this little machine 
some dexterity was necessary : an unskilful Phaeton was 
sure to fall. The vehicle was so low, that a fall was at- 
tended with little danger, yet with much disgrace, for a uni- 
versal laugh from all sides assailed the fallen charioteer. 
This laugh was from a very full chorus, for the constant and 
rapid succession of the "train, where every one had a brother, 
lover, or kinsman, brought all the young people in town to the 
porticoes, where they used to sit wrapped in furs till ten or eleven 
at night, engrossed by the delectable spectacle. What ma- 
gical attraction it could possibly have, I never could find out; 
but I have known an Albanian, after residing some years in 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 59 

Britain, and becoming a polished fine gentleman, join the 
sport, and slide down with the rest. Perhaps, after all our 
laborious refinements in amusements, being easily pleased is 
one of the great secrets of happiness, as far as it is retaina- 
ble in this " frail and feverish being." 

Now there remains another amusement to be described, 
which I mention with reluctance, and should hardly venture 
to mention at all, if I had not found a precedent for it among 
the virtuous Spartans. Had Lycurgus himself been the 
founder of their community, the young men could scarce have 
stolen with more alacrity and dexterity. I could never con- 
jecture how the custom could possibly originate among a set 
of people of such perfect and plain integrity. But thus it was. 
The young men now and then spent a convivial evening at a 
tavern together, where, from the extreme cheapness of liquor, 
their bills (even when they committed an occasional excess) 
were very moderate. Either to lessen the expense of the sup- 
per, or from the pure love of what they styled frolic, (Anglice 
mischief,) they never failed to steal either a roasting pig or a 
fat turkey for this festive occasion. The town was the scene 
of these depredations, which never extended beyond it. 
Swine and turkeys were reared in great numbers by all the 
inhabitants. For those they brought to town in winter, they 
had an appropriate place at the lower end of the garden, in 
which they locked them up. It is observable, that these ani- 
mals were the only things locked up about the house, for this 
good reason, that nothing else ran the least risk of being 
stolen. The dexterity of the theft consisted in climbing over 
very high walls, watching to steal in when the negroes went 
down to feed the horse or cow, or making a clandestine en- 
trance at some window or aperture : breaking up doors was 
(Jbite out of rule, and rarely ever resorted to. These exploits 
were always performed in the darkest nights ; if the owner 
heard a noise in his stables, he usually ran down with a 
cudgel, and laid it without mercy on any culprit he could 
overtake. This was either dexterously avoided, or patiently 
borne. To plunder a man, and afterwards offer him any 
personal injury, was accounted scandalous ; but the turkeys 
or pigs were never recovered. In some instances a whole 
band of these young plunderers would traverse the town, and 
carry off such a prey as would afford provision for many 



60 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

jovial nights. Nothing was more common than to find one's 
brothers or nephews among these pillagers. 

Marriage was followed by two dreadful privations : a mar- 
ried man could not fly down the street in a little sledge, nor 
join a party of pig-stealers, without outraging decorum. If 
any of their confederates married, as they frequently did, 
very young, and were in circumstances to begin housekeep- 
ing, they were sure of an early visit of this nature from their 
old confederates. It was thought a great act of gallantry to 
overtake and chastise the robbers. I recollect an instance 
of one young married man, who had not long attained to that 
dignity ; his turkeys screaming violently one night, he ran 
down to chastise the aggressors ; he overtook them in the 
fact ; but finding they were his old associates, he could not 
resist the force of habit, so joined the rest in another exploit 
of the same nature, and then shared his own turkey at the 
tavern. There were two inns in the town, the masters of 
which were " honorable men ;" yet these pigs and turkeys 
were always received and dressed without questioning whence 
they came. In one instance, a young party had in this man- 
ner provided a pig, and ordered it to be roasted at the King's 
Arms ; another party attacked the same place whence this 
booty was taken, but found it already rifled. This party was 
headed by an idle mischievous young man, who was the Ned 
Poins of his fraternity ; well guessing how the stolen roast- 
ing-pig was disposed of, he ordered his friends to adjourn to 
the rival tavern, and went himself to the King's Arms. In- 
quiring in the kitchen (where a pig was roasting) who sup- 
ped there, he soon arrived at certainty ; then taking an op- 
portunity when there was no one in the kitchen but the cook- 
maid, he sent for one of the jovial party, who were at cards 
up stairs. During her absence, he cut the string by whicft 
the pig was suspended, laid it in the dripping-pan, and 
through the quiet and dark streets of that sober city, carried 
it safely to the other tavern, where, after finishing the roast- 
ing, he and his companions prepared to regale themselves. 
Meantime the pig was missed at the King's Arms ; and it 
was immediately concluded, from the dexterity and address 
with which this trick was performed, that no other but the 
Poins aforesaid could be the author of it. A new stratagem 
was now devised to outwit this stealer of the stolen. An 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 61 

adventurous youth of the despoiled party laid down a parcel 
of shavings opposite to the other tavern, and setting them in a 
blaze, cried fire ! a most alarming sound here, where such acci- 
dents were too frequent. Every one rushed out of the house, 
just as supper had been served. The dexterous purveyor, who 
had occasioned all this disturbance, stole in, snatched up the 
dish with the pig in it, stole out again by the back door, and 
feasted his companions with the recovered spoils. 

These were a few idle young men, the sons of avaricious 
fathers, who, grudging to advance the means of pushing them 
forward by the help of their own industry to independence, 
allowed them to remain so long unoccupied, that their time 
was wasted, and habits of conviviality at length degenerated 
into those of dissipation. They were not only pitied and en- 
dured, but received with a wonderful degree of kindness and 
indulgence. They were usually a kind of wags, went about 
like privileged persons, at whose jests no one took offence, 
and were in their discourse and style of humor so much like 
Shakspeare's clowns, that on reading that admirable author, 
I thought I recognised my old acquaintances. Of them, how- 
ever, 1 saw little, the society admitted at my friend's being 
very select. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Lay -Brothers. — Catalina. — Detached Indians. 

Before I quit this attempt to delineate the members of 
which this community was composed, I must mention a class 
of aged persons, who, united by the same recollections, pur- 
suits, and topics, associated very much with each other, and 
very little with a world, which they seemed to have re- 
nounced. They might be styled lay-brothers, and were 
usually widowers, or persons who, in consequence of some 
early disappointment, had remained unmarried. These were 
not devotees, who had, as was formerly often the case in 
Catholic countries, run from the extreme of licentiousness to 
that of bigotry. They were generally persons who were 

6 



62 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

never marked as being irreligious or immoral ; and were just 
as little distinguished for peculiar strictness, or devotional 
fervor. These good men lived in the house of some rela- 
tion, where they had their own apartments to themselves ; 
and only occasionally mixed with the family. The people 
of the town lived to a great age ; ninety was frequently at- 
tained : and I have seen different individuals of both sexes 
who had reached a hundred. These ancients seemed to 
place all their delight in pious books and devotional exer- 
cises, particularly in singing psalms, which they would do in 
their own apartments for hours together. They came out 
and in like ghosts, and were treated as such ; for they never 
spoke unless when addressed, and seemed very careless of 
the things of this world, like people who had got above it. 
Yet they were much together, and seemed to enjoy each 
other's conversation. Retrospection on the scenes of early 
life, anticipations of that futurity so closely veiled from our 
sight, and discussions regarding various passages of holy 
writ, seemed their faA^orite themes. They were mild and 
benevolent, but abstracted, and unlike other people. Their 
happiness, for happy I am convinced they were, was of a 
nature peculiar to themselves, not obvious to others. Some 
there were, not deficient in their attention to religious duties, 
who, living in the bosom of their families, took an active 
and cheerful concern to the last in all that amused or inter- 
ested them ; and I never understood that the lay-brothers, as 
I have chosen to call them, blamed them for so doing. One 
of the first Christian virtues, charity in the most accepted and 
common sense of the word, had little scope. Here a beggar 
was unheard of. People, such as I have described in the 
bush, or going there, were no more considered as objects of 
pity, than we consider an apprentice as such, for having his 
time to serve before he sets up for himself. In such cases, 
the wealthier, because older settlers, frequently gave a heifer 
or a colt each, to a new beginner, who set about clearing 
land in their vicinity. Orphans were never neglected ; and 
from their early marriages, and the casualties to which their 
manner of life subjected them, these were not unfrequent. 
You never entered a house without meeting children. Maid- 
ens, bachelors, and childless married people, all adopted or- 
phans, and all treated them as if they were their own. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 63 

Having given a sketch, which appears to my recollection 
(aided by subsequent conversations with my fellow-travel- 
lers) a faithful one, of the country and its inhabitants, it is 
time to return to the history of the mind of Miss Schuyler, 
for by no other circumstances than prematurity of intellect, 
and superior culture, were her earliest years distinguished. 
Her father, dying early, left her very much to the tuition of 
his brother. Her uncle's frontier situation made a kind of 
barrier to the settlement ; while the powerful influence that 
his knowledge of nature and of character, his sound judg- 
ment and unstained integrity, had obtained over both parties, 
made him the bond by which the aborigines were united 
with the colonists. Thus little leisure was left him for do- 
mestic enjoyments, or literary pursuits, for both of which his 
mind was peculiarly adapted. Of the leisure he could coni; 
mand, however, he made the best use ; and soon distinguish- 
ing Catalina as the one among his family to whom nature 
had been most liberal, he was at pains to cultivate her taste 
for reading, which soon discovered itself, by procuring for 
her the best authors in history, divinity, and the belles let- 
tres : in this latter branch, her reading was not very exten- 
sive ; but then, the few books of this kind that she possessed 
were very well chosen, and she was early and intimately 
familiar with them. What I remember of her, assisted by 
comparisons since made with others, -has led me to think 
that extensive reading, superficial and indiscriminate, such 
as the very easy access to books among us encourages, is 
not at an early period of life favorable to solid thinking, true 
taste, or fixed principle. Whatever she knew, she knew to 
the bottom ; and the reflections, which were thus suggested 
to her strong discerning mind, were digested by means of 
easy and instructive conversation. Colonel Schuyler had 
many relations in New York ; and the governor and other 
ruling characters there carefully cultivated the acquaintance 
of a person so well qualified to instruct and inform them on 
certain points. Having considerable dealings in the fur- 
trade too, he went every winter to the capital for a short 
time, to adjust his commercial concerns, and often took his 
favorite niece along with him, who, being of an uncommon 
quick growth and tall stature, soon attracted attention by her 
personal graces, as well as by the charms of her conversa- 



64 SKETCHES OF MANxVERS 

don. I have been told, and should conclude from a picture 
I have seen dravi^n when she vv^as fifteen, that she was in. her 
youth very handsome. Of this few traces remained when I 
knew her ; excessive corpulence having then overloaded her 
majestic person, and entirely changed the aspect of a coun- 
tenance once eminently graceful. In no place did female 
excellence of any kind more amply receive its due tribute 
of applause and admiration than here, for various reasons. 
First, cultivation and refinement were rare. Then it was 
not the common routine that women should necessarily have 
such and such accomplishments ; pains were taken only on 
minds strong enough to bear improvement without becoming 
conceited or pedantic. And lastly, as the spur of emulation 
was not invidiously applied, those who acquired a superior 
degree of knowledge considered themselves as very fortu- 
nate in having a new source of enjoyment opened to them. 
But never having been made to understand that the chief 
motive of excelling was to dazzle or outshine others, they no 
more thought of despising their less fortunate companions, 
than of assuming pre-eminence for discovering a wild plum- 
tree or bee-hive in the woods, though, as in the former case, 
they would have regarded such a discovery as a benefit and 
a pleasure ; their acquisitions, therefore, were never shaded 
by affectation. The women were all natives of the country, 
and few had more than domestic education. But men, who 
possessed the advantages of early culture and usage of the 
world, daily arrived on the continent from different parts of 
Europe. So that if we may be indulged in the inelegant 
liberty of talking commercially of female elegance, the sup- 
ply was not equal to the demand. It may be easily supposed 
that Miss Schuyler met with due attention ; who, even at 
this early age, was respected for the strength of her charac- 
ter, and the dignity and composure of her manners. Her 
mother,, whom she delighted to recollect, was mild, pious, 
and amiable ; her acknowledged worth was chastened by 
the utmost diffidence. Yet accustomed to exercise a certain 
power over the minds of the natives, she had great influence 
in restraining their irregularities, and swaying their opinions. 
From her knowledge of their language, and habit of con- 
versing with them, some detached Indian families resided 
for a while in summer in the vicinity of houses occupied by 



AND SCE7VERY IN AMERICA. 65 

the more wealthy and benevolent inhabitants. They gene- 
rally built a slight wigwam under shelter of the orchard- 
fence on the shadiest side ; and never were neighbors more 
harmless, peaceable, and obliging — I might truly add, indus- 
trious — for in one way or other they were constantly occu- 
pied. The women and their children employed themselves 
in many ingenious handicrafts, which since the introduction 
of European arts and manufactures, have greatly declined. 
Baking trays, wooden dishes, ladles and spoons, shovels and 
rakes ; brooms of a peculiar manufacture, made by split- 
ting a birch-block into slender but tough filaments ; baskets 
of all kinds and sizes, made of similar filaments, enriched 
with the most beautiful colors, which they alone knew how 
to extract from vegetable substances, and incorporate with 
the wood. They made also of the birch-bark, (which is 
here so strong and tenacious, that cradles and canoes are 
made of it,) many receptacles for holding fruit and other 
things, curiously adorned with embroidery, not inelegant, 
done with the sinews of deer; and leggins and moccasins, a 
very comfortable and highly ornamental substitute for shoes 
and stockings, then universally used in winter among the 
men of our own people. They had also a beautiful manu- 
facture of deer-skin, softened to the consistence of the finest 
chamois leather, and embroidered with beads of wampum, 
formed like bugles ; these, with great art and industry, they 
formed out of shells, which had the appearance of fine white 
porcelain, veined with purple. This embroidery showed 
both skill and taste, and was among themselves highly val- 
ued. They had belts, large embroidered garters, and many 
other ornaments, formed, first of deer sinews, divided to the 
size of coarse thread, and afterwards, when they obtained 
worsted thread from us, of that material, formed in a manner 
which I could never comprehend. It was neither knitted 
nor wrought in the manner of net, nor yet woven ; but the 
texture was more like that of an officer's sash than any thing 
I can compare it to. While the women and children were 
thus employed, the men sometimes assisted them in the more 
laborious part of their business, but oftener occupied them- 
selves in fishing on the rivers, and drying or preserving, by 
means of smoke, in sheds erected for the purpose, sturgeon 

6* 



66 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

and large eels, which they caught in great quantities, and of 
an extraordinary size, for winter provision. 

Boys on the verge of manhood, and ambitious to be ad- 
mitted into the hunting parties of the ensuing winter, exer- 
cised themselves in trying to improve their skill in archery, 
by shooting birds, squirrels, and racoons. These petty hunt- 
ings helped to support the little colony in the neighborhood, 
which however derived its principal subsistence from an ex- 
change of their manufactures with the neighboring family, 
for milk, bread, and other articles of food. 

The summer residence of these ingenious artisans pro- 
moted a great intimacy between the females of the vicinity 
and the Indian women, whose sagacity and comprehension 
of mind were beyond belief. 

It is a singular circumstance, that though they saw the 
negroes in every respectable family not only treated with 
humanity, but cherished with parental kindness, they always 
regarded them with contempt and dislike, as an inferior race, 
and would have no communication with them. It was ne- 
cessary then that all conversations should be held, and all 
business transacted with these females, by the mistress of 
the family. In the infancy of the settlement the Indian lan- 
guage was familiar to the more intelligent inhabitants, who 
found it very useful, and were, no doubt, pleased with its 
nervous and emphatic idiom, and its lofty and sonorous ca- 
dence. It was indeed a noble and copious language, when 
one considers that it served as the vehicle of thought to a 
people whose ideas and sphere of action we should consider 
as so very confined. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Progress of Knowledge. — Indian Manners. 

Conversation with those interesting and deeply reflect- 
ing natives, was, to thinking minds, no mean source of en- 
tertainment. Communication soon grew easier, for the Indians 
had a singular facility in acquiring languages, the children 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 67 

especially, as I well remember, from experimental knowledge, 
for I delighted to hover about the wigwams, and conA^erse 
with those of the Indians, and we very frequently mingled 
languages. But to return to my subject. Whatever comfort 
or advantage a good and benevolent mind possesses, it is 
willing to extend to others. The mother of my friend, and 
other matrons, who like her experienced the consolations, 
the hopes, and the joys, of Christianity, wished those esti- 
mable natives to share in their pure enjoyments. 

Of all others these mild and practical Christians were the 
best fitted for making proselytes. Unlike professed mission- 
aries, whose zeal is not always seconded by judgment, they 
did not begin by alarming the jealousy with which all man- 
ner of people watch over their hereditary prejudices. En- 
gaged in active life, they had daily opportunities of demon- 
strating the truth of their religion by its influence upon their 
conduct. Equally unable and unwilling to enter into deep 
disquisitions or polemical arguments, their calm and unstud- 
ied explanations of the essential doctrines of Christianity 
were the natural results which arose out of their ordinary 
conversation. To make this better understood, I must en- 
deavor to explain what I have observed in the unpolished 
society that occupies the wild and remote districts of difler- 
ent countries. Their conversation is not only more original, 
but, however odd the expression may appear, more philo- 
sophical than that of persons equally destitute of mental cul- 
ture in more populous districts. They derive their subjects 
of reflection and conversation rather from natural objects, 
which lead minds, possessing a certain degree of intelligence, 
more forward to trace effects to their causes. Nature there, 
too, is seen arrayed in virgin beauty and simple majesty. 
Her various aspects are more grand and impressive. Her 
voice is more distinctly heard, and sinks deeper into the heart. 
These people, more dependent on the simples of the fields, 
and the wild fruits of the woods ; better acquainted with the 
forms and instincts of the birds and beasts, their fellow-den- 
izens in the wild ; and more observant of every constella- 
tion and every change in the sky, from living so much in the 
open air, have a wider range of ideas than we are aware of. 
With us art everywhere combats nature, opposes her plainest 
dictates, and too often conquers her. The poor are so con- 



68 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

fined to the spot where their occupations lie, so engrossed 
by their struggles for daily bread, and so surrounded by the 
works of man, that those of their Creator are almost excluded 
from their view, at least they form a very small part of the 
subjects that engross their thoughts. What knowledge they 
have is often merely the husks and orts that fall from the 
table of their superiors, which they swallow without chewing. 

Many of those who are one degree above the lowest class 
see nature in poetry, novels, and other books, and never think 
of looking for her anywhere else ; like a person amused by 
the reflection of the starry heavens, or shifting clouds from a 
calm lake, who never lifts his eyes to those objects of which 
he sees the imperfect though resembling pictures. 

Those who live in the undisguised bosom of tranquil na- 
ture, and whose chief employment it is, by disencumbering 
her of waste luxuriance, to discover and improve her latent 
beauties, need no borrowed enthusiasm to relish her sublime 
and graceful features. The venerable simplicity of the sa- 
cred Scriptures has something extremely attractive for a mind 
in this state. The soul which is the most familiar with its 
Creator in his works, will be always the most ready to recog- 
nise him in his word. Conversations, which had for their 
subject the nature and virtues of plants, the extent and boun- 
daries of woods and lakes, and the various operations of in- 
stinct in animals, under those circumstances where they are 
solely directed by it, and the distinct customs and manners 
of various untutored nations, tended to expand the mind, and 
teach it to aspire to more perfect intelligence. The untaught 
reasoners of the woods could not but observe that the Euro- 
peans knew much that was concealed from them, and derived 
many benefits and much power from that knowledge. Where 
they saw active virtue keep pace with superior knowledge, it 
was natural to conclude that persons thus beneficially enlight- 
ened, had clearer and ampler views of that futurity, which to 
them only dimly gleamed through formless darkness. They 
would suppose, too, that those illuminated beings had some 
means of approaching nearer to that source of light and per- 
fection from which wisdom is derived, than they themselves 
had attained. Their minds being thus prepared by degrees, 
these pious matrons (probably assisted by those lay-brothers 
of whom I have spoken) began to diffuse the knowledge of 



AND SCENE RV IN AMERICA. 69 

the distinguishing doctrines of Christianity among the elderly 
and well-intentioned Indian women. These did not by any 
means receive the truth without examination. The acute- 
ness of intellect which discovered itself in their objections 
(of which I have heard many striking instances) was aston- 
ishing ; yet the humble and successful instruments of enlight- 
ening those sincere and candid people did by no means take 
to themselves any merit in making proselytes. When they 
found their auditors disposed to listen diligently to the truth, 
they sent them to the clergyman of the place, who instructed, 
confirmed, and baptized them. I am sorry that I have not a 
clear and distinct recollection of the exact manner, or of the 
numbers, &c., of these first converts, of whom I shall say 
more hereafter ; but I know that this was the usual process. 
They were, however, both zealous and persevering, and 
proved the means of bringing many others under the law of 
love, to which it is reasonable to suppose the safety of this 
unprotected frontier was greatly owing at that crisis, that of 
the first attacks of the French. The Indian women, who, 
from motives of attachment to particular families, or for the 
purpose of carrying on the small traffic already mentioned, 
were wont to pass their summers near the settlers, were of 
detached and wandering families, who preferred this mode 
of living to the labor of tilling the ground, which entirely 
devolved upon the women among the Five Nations. By till- 
ing the ground I would not be understood to mean any settled 
mode of agriculture, requiring cattle, enclosures, or imple- 
ments of husbandry. Grain made but a very subordinate part 
of their subsistence, which was chiefly derived from fishing 
and hunting. The little they had was maize ; this, with kid- 
ney-beans and tobacco, the only plants they cultivated, was 
sown in some very pleasant fields along the Mohawk river, 
by the women, who had no implements of tillage but the hoe, 
and a kind of wooden spade. These fields lay round their 
castles, and while the women were thus employed, the men 
were catching and drying fish by the rivers or on the lakes. 
The younger girls were much busied during summer and 
autumn, in gathering wild fruits, berries, and grapes, which 
they had a peculiar mode of drying, to preserve them for the 
winter. The great cranberry they gathered in abundance, 
which, without being dried, would last the whole winter, and 



70 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 



was much used by the settlers. These dried fruits were no 
luxury ; a fastidious taste would entirely reject them. Yet, 
besides furnishing another article of food, they had their use, 
as was evident. Without some antiseptic, they who lived 
the whole winter on animal food, without a single vegetable, 
or any thing of the nature of bread, unless now and then a 
little maize, which they had the art of boiling down to soft- 
ness in lye of wood-ashes, must have been liable to that great 
scourge of northern nations in their primitive state, the scur- 
vy, had not this simple dessert been a preservative against 
it. Rheumatisms, and sometimes agues, affected them, but 
no symptom of any cutaneous disease was ever seen on an 
Indian. 

The stragglers from the confines of the orchards did not 
fail to join their tribes in winter ; and were zealous, and often 
successful, in spreading their new opinions. The Indians 
supposed that every country had its own mode of honoring 
the Great Spirit, to whom all were equally acceptable. This 
had, on one hand, the bad effect of making them satisfied 
with their own vague and undefined notions ; and on the 
other, the good one of making them very tolerant of those of 
others. If you do not insult their belief, (for mode of worship 
they have scarce any,) they will hear you talk of yours with 
the greatest patience and attention. Their good-breeding, in 
this respect, was really superlative. No Indian ever inter- 
rupted any, the most idle talker : but when they concluded, 
he would deliberately, methodically, and not ungracefully 
answer or comment upon all they had said, in a manner 
which showed that not a word had escaped him. 

Lady Mary Montague ludicrously says, that the court of 
Vienna was the paradise of old women ; and that there is no 
other place in the world where a woman past fifty excites 
the least interest. Had her travels extended to the interior 
of North America, she would have seen another instance of 
this inversion of the common mode of thinking. Here a wo- 
man never was of consequence, till she had a son old enough 
to fight the battles of his country ; from that date, she held a 
superior rank in society ; was allowed to live at ease, and 
even called to consultations on national affairs. In savage 
and warlike countries, the reign of beauty is very short, and* 
its influence comparatively limited. The girls in childhood 



AND fiCENERY IN AMERICA. 71 

had a very pleasing appearance ; but excepting their fine 
hair, eyes, and teeth, every external grace was soon banished 
by perpetual drudgery, carrying burdens too heavy to be 
borne, and other slavish employments considered beneath the 
dignity of the men. These walked before, erect and grace- 
ful, decked with ornaments, which set off to advantage the 
symmetry of their well-formed persons, while the poor women 
followed, meanly attired, bent under the weight of the chil- 
dren and utensils which they carried everywhere with them, 
and disfigured and degraded by ceaseless toils. They were 
very early married : for a Mohawk had no other servant but 
his wife ; and whenever he commenced hunter, it was re- 
quisite that he should have some one to carry his load, cook 
his kettle, make his moccasins, and above all, produce the 
young warriors who were to succeed him in his honors of 
the chase and of the tomahawk. Wherever man is a mere 
hunter, woman is a mere slave. It is domestic intercourse 
that softens man, and elevates woman ; and of that there can 
be little, where the employments and amusements are not in 
common: the ancient Caledonians honored the fair; but then, 
it is to be observed, they were fair huntresses, and moved in 
the light of their beauty, to the hill of roes ; and the culina- 
ry toils were entirely left to the rougher sex. When the 
young warrior above alluded to maide his appearance, it soft- 
ened the cares of his mother ; who well knew that when he 
grew up, every deficiency in tenderness to his wife would be 
made up in superabundant duty and affection to her. If it 
were possible to carry filial veneration to excess, it was done 
here ; for all other charities were absorbed in it. I wonder 
this system of depressing the sex in their early years, to exalt 
them when all their juvenile attractions were flown, and when 
mind alone can distinguish them, has not occurred to our mod- 
ern reformers. The Mohawks took good care not to admit 
their women to share their prerogatives, till they approved 
themselves good wives and mothers. 

This digression, long as it is, has a very intimate connec- 
tion with the character of my friend ; she early adopted the 
views of her family, in regard to those friendly Indians, 
which greatly enlarged her mind, and ever after influenced 
her conduct. She was, even in childhood, well acquainted 
with their language, opinions, and customs ; and, like every 



72 SKETCHES UF MANNER:? 

Other person possessed of a liberality or benevolence of mind, 
whom chance had brought acquainted with them, was ex- 
ceedingly partial to those high-souled and generous natives. 
The Mohawk language was early familiar to her ; she spoke 
Dutch and English with equal ease and purity ; was no 
stranger to the French tongue ; and could (I think) read Ger- 
man. I have heard her speak it. From the conversations 
which her active curiosity led her to hold with native Afri- 
cans, brought into her father's family, she was more inti- 
mately acquainted with the customs, manners, and government 
of their native country, than she could have been by reading 
all that was ever written on the subject. Books are, no 
doubt, the granaries of knowledge ; but a diligent inquiring 
mind, in the active morning of life, will find it strewed like 
manna over the face of the earth ; and need not, in all cases, 
rest satisfied with intelligence accumulated by others, and 
tinctured with their passions and prejudices. Whoever reads 
Homer or Shakspeare may daily discover that they describe 
both nature and art from their own observation. Conse- 
quently you see the images, reflected from the mirror of their 
great minds, differing from the descriptions of others, as the 
reflection of an object in all its colors and proportions from 
any polished surface, does from a shadow on a wall, or from 
a picture drawn from recollection. The enlarged mind of 
my friend, and her simple yet easy and dignified manners, 
made her readily adapt herself to those with whom she con- 
versed, and everywhere command respect and kindness ; 
and, on a nearer acquaintance, affection followed ; but she 
had too much sedateness and independence to adopt those 
caressing and insinuating manners, by which the vain and 
the artful so soon find their way into shallow minds. Her 
character did not captivate at once, but gradually unfolded 
itself ; and you had always something new to discover. Her 
style was grave and masculine, without the least embellish- 
ment ; and at the same time so pure, that every thing she said 
might be printed without correction, and so plain, that the 
most ign(»ant and most inferior persons were never at a loss 
to compreliend it. It possessed, too, a wonderful flexibility ; 
it seemed to rise and fall with the subject. I have not met 
with a style which, to noble and uniform simplicity, united 
such variety of expression. Whoever drinks knowledge pure 



AND SCEXERY IN AMERICA. 73 

at its sources, solely from a delight in filling the capacities 
of a large mind, without the desire of dazzling or outshining 
others ; whoever speaks for the sole purpose of conveying to 
other minds those ideas from which he himself has received 
pleasure and advantage, may possess this chaste and natural 
style : but it is not to be acquired by art or study. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Marriage of Miss Schuyler. — Description of the Flats. 

Miss S. had the happiness to captivate her cousin Philip, 
eldest son of her uncle, who was ten years older than herself, 
and was in all respects to be accounted a suitable, and in the 
worldly sense, an advantageous match for her. His father 
was highly satisfied to have the two objects on whom he had 
bestowed so much care and culture united. They were mar- 
ried in the year 1719,* when she was in the eighteenth year 
of her age. When the old colonel died, he left considerable 
possessions to be divided among his children, and from the 
quantity of plate, paintings, &c., which they shared, there is 
reason to believe he must have brought some of his wealth 
from Holland, as in those days people had little means of en- 
riching themselves in new settlements. He had also con- 
siderable possessions in a place near the town, now called 
Fishkill, about twenty miles below Albany. His family resi- 
dence, however, was at the Flats, a fertile and beautiful plain 
on the banks of the river. He possessed about two miles on 
a stretch of that rich and level champaign. This possession 
was bounded on the east by the river Hudson, whose high 
banks overhung the stream and its pebbly strand, and were 
both adorned and defended by elms, (larger than ever I have 
seen in any other place,) decked with natural festoons of wild 
grapes, which abound along the banks of this noble stream. 
These lofty elms were left, when the country was cleared, to 
fortify the banks against the masses of thick ice which make 

* Miss Schuyler was bom in the year 1701. 



74 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



war upon them in spring, when the melting snows burst this 
glassy pavement, and raise the waters many feet above their 
usual level. This precaution not only answers that purpose, 
but gratifies the mind by presenting to the eye a remnant of 
the wild magnificence of nature amidst the smiling scenes 
produced by varied and successful cultivation. As you came 
along by the north end of the town, where the Patroon had 
his seat, you afterwards passed by the enclosures of the citi- 
zens, where (as formerly described) they planted their corn, 
and arrived at the Flats, Colonel Schuyler's possession. On 
the right you saw the river in all its beauty, there above a 
mile broad. On the opposite side the view was bounded by 
steep hills, covered with lofty pines from which a waterfall 
descended, which not only gave animation to the sylvan scene, 
but was the best barometer imaginable, foretelling by its va- 
ried and intelligible sounds every approaching change, not 
only of the weather, but of the wind. Opposite to the grounds 
lay an island, above a mile in length, and about a quarter in 
breadth, which also belonged '^o the colonel ; exquisitely 
beautiful it was, and though the haunt I most delighted in, it 
is not in my power to describe it. Imagine a little Egypt 
yearly overflowed, and of the most redundant fertility. This 
charming spot was at first covered with wood, like the rest 
of the country, except a long field in the middle, where the 
Indians had probably cultivated maize ; round this was a 
broad shelving border, where the gray and the weeping wil- 
lows, the bending osier, and numberless aquatic plants not 
known in this country, were allowed to flourish in the utmost 
luxuriance, while within, some tall sycamores and wild fruit- 
trees towered above the rest. Thus was formed a broad belt, 
which in winter proved an impenetrable barrier against the 
broken ice, and in summer was the haunt of numberless birds 
and small animals, who dwelt in perfect safety, it being im- 
possible to penetrate it. Numberless were the productions 
of this luxuriant spot ; never was a richer field for a botanist ; 
for though the ice was kept ofl", the turbid waters of the spring 
flood overflowed it annually, and not only deposited a rich 
sediment, but left the seeds of various plants swept from the 
shores it had passed by. The centre of the island, which 
was much higher than the sides, produced with a slight degree 
of culture the most abundant crops of wheat, hay, and flax. 



AND SCENERV IN AMERICA. 75 

At the end of the island, which was exactly opposite to the 
family mansion, a long sand-bank extended ; on this was a 
very valuable fishing-place, of which a considerable profit 
might be made. In smnmer, when the water was low, this 
narrow stripe (for such it was) came in sight, and furnished 
an amusing spectacle ; for there the bald or white-headed 
eagle, (a large picturesque bird, very frequent in this country,) 
the ospray, the heron, and the curlew, used to stand in great 
numbers in a long row, like a military arrangement, for a 
whole summer day, fishing for perch and a kind of fresh-water 
herring which abounded there. At the same season a variety 
of wild ducks, which bred on the shores of the island, (among 
which was a small white diver of an elegant form,) led forth 
their young to try their first excursion. What a scene have 
I beheld on a calm summer evening! There indeed were 
" fringed banks" richly fringed, and wonderfully variegated ; 
where every imaginable shade of color mingled, and where 
life teemed prolific on every side. The river, a perfect mir- 
ror, reflected the pine-covered hills opposite ; and the pliant 
shades bent without a wind, round this enchanting island, 
while hundreds of the white divers, saw-bill ducks with scar- 
let heads, teal, and other aquatic birds, sported at once on the 
calm waters. At the discharge of a gun from the shore, these 
feathered beauties all disappeared at once, as if by magic, 
and in an instant rose again to view in different places. 

How much they seemed to enjoy that life which was so 
new to them ! for they were the young broods first led forth 
to sport upon the waters. While the fixed attitude and lofty 
port of the large birds of prey, that were ranged upon the 
sandy shelf, formed an inverted picture in the same clear 
mirror, and were a pleasing contrast to the playful multitude 
around. These they never attempted to disturb, well aware 
of the facility of escape which their old retreats afibrded them. 
Such of my readers as have had patience to follow me to this 
favorite isle, will be, ere now, as much bewildered as I have 
often been on its luxuriant shores. To return to the south- 
* ward ; on the confines of what might then be called an inter- 
minable wild, rose two gently sloping eminences, about half 
a mile from the shore. From each of these a large brook 
descended, bending through the plain, and having its course 
marked by the shades of primeval trees and shrubs, left there 



76 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

to shelter the cattle when the ground was cleared. On these 
eminences, in the near neighborhood and full view of the 
mansion at the Flats, were two large and well-built dwellings, 
inhabited by Colonel Schuyler's two younger sons, Peter 
and Jeremiah. To the elder was allotted the place inhabited 
by his father, which, from its lower situation and level sur- 
face, was called the Flats. There was a custom prevalent 
among the new settlers something like that of gavel-kind ; 
they made a pretty equal division of lands among their younger 
sons. The eldest, by pre-eminence of birth, had a larger 
share, and generally succeeded to the domain inhabited by his 
father, with the slaves, cattle, and effects upon it. 

This, in the present instance, was the lot of the eldest son 
of that family whose possessions I have been describing. 
His portion of land on the shore of the river was scarcely 
equal in value to those of his brothers, to whose possessions 
the brooks I have mentioned formed a natural boundary, di- 
viding them from each other, and from his. To him was 
allotted the costly furniture of the family, of which paintings, 
plate, and china, constituted the valuable part ; every thing 
else being merely plain and useful. They had also a large 
house in Albany, which they occupied occasionally. 

I have neglected to describe in its right place the termina- 
tion or back-ground of the landscape I have such delight in 
recollecting. There the solemn and interminable forest was 
varied at intervals by rising grounds, near streams where birch 
and hickory, maple and poplar, cheered the eye with a lighter 
green, through the prevailing shade of dusky pines. On the 
border of the w^ood, where the trees had been thinned for 
firing, was a broad shrubbery all along, which marked the 
edges of the wood above the possessions of the brothers as 
far as it extended. 

This was formed of sumach, a shrub with leaves, continu- 
ally changing color through all the varieties, from blending 
green and yellow, to orange tawny, and adorned with large 
lilach-shaped clusters of bright scarlet grains, covered with 
pungent dust of a sharp flavor at once saline and acid. This* 
the Indians use as salt to their food, and for the dyeing of dif- 
ferent colors. The red glow, which Avas the general result 
of this natural border, had a fine effect, thrown out from the 
dusky shades which towered behind. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 7T 

To the northward, a sandy tract, covered with low pines, 
formed a boundary betwixt the Flats and Stonehook, which 
lay further up the river. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Character of Philip Schuyler. — His Management of the Indians. 

Philip Schuyler, who, on the death of his father, suc- 
ceeded to the inheritance I have been describing, was a 
person of a mild, benevolent character, and an excellent un- 
derstanding, which had received more culture than was usual 
in that country. But whether he had returned to Europe for 
the purpose of acquiring knowledge in the public seminaries 
there, or had been instructed by any French protestants, who 
were sometimes retained in the principal families for such 
purposes, I do not exactly know ; but am led rather to sup- 
pose the latter, from the connection which always subsisted 
between that class of people and the Schuyler family. 

When the intimacy between this gentleman and the sub- 
ject of these memoirs took place, she was a mere child ; for 
the colonel, as he was soon after called, was ten years older 
than she. This was singular there, where most men married 
under twenty. But his early years were occupied by mo- 
mentous concerns ; for, by this time, the public safety began 
to be endangered by the insidious wiles of the French Cana- 
dians, to whom our frontier settlers began to be formidable 
rivals in the fur-trade, which the former wished to engross. 
In process of time, the Indians, criminally indulged with 
strong liquors by the most avaricious and unprincipled of the 
traders, began to have an insatiable desire for them, and the 
traders' avidity for gain increased in the same proportion. 

Occasional fraud on the one hand gave rise to occasional 
violence on the other. Mutual confidence decayed, and hos- 
tility betrayed itself, when intoxication laid open every 
thought. Some of our traders were, as the colonists alleged, 
treacherously killed in violation of treaties solemnly conclu- 
ded between them and the offending tribes. 



78 SKETCHES OP MAIfNERS 

The mediation and protection of the Mohawk tribes were, 
as usual, appealed to. But these shrewd politicians saw evi- 
dently the value of their protection to an un warlike people, 
who made no effort to defend themselves ; and who, distant 
from the source of authority, and contributing nothing to the 
support of government, were in a great measure neglected. 
They began also to observe, that their new friends were ex- 
tending their possessions on every side, and, conscious of 
their wealth and increasing numbers, did not so assiduously 
cultivate the good-will of their faithful allies as formerly. 
These nations, savage as we may imagine them, were as 
well skilled in the arts of negotiation as the most polite Eu- 
ropeans. They waged perpetual war with each other about 
their hunting-grounds ; each tribe laying claim to some vast 
wild territory, destined for that purpose, and divided from 
other districts by boundaries which we should consider as 
merely ideal, but which they perfectlj^ understood. Yet these 
were not so distinctly defined as to preclude all dispute ; and 
a casual encroachment on this imaginary deer-park, v/as a 
sufficient ground of hostility ; and this, not for the value of 
the few deer or bears which might be killed, but that they 
thought their national honor violated by such an aggression. 
The system of revenge, which subsisted with equal force 
among them all, admitted of no sincere conciliation, till the 
aggrieved party had obtained at least an equal number of 
scalps and prisoners for those that they had lost. This 
bloody reckoning was not easily adjusted. After a short aird 
hollow truce, the remaining balance on either side afforded a 
pretext for new hostilities, and time to solicit new alliances ; 
for which last purpose much art and much persuasive elo- 
quence were employed. 

But the grand mystery of Indian politics was the- flattery, 
the stratagem, and address employed in detaching other 
tribes from the alliance of their enemies. There could not 
be a stronger proof of the restless and turbulent nature of am- 
bition, than these artful negotiations, the consequence of per- 
petual hostility, where one would think there was so little 
ground for quarrel ; and that among a people who, individu- 
ally, were by no means quarrelsome or covetous, and seemed, 
in their private transactions with each other, impressed with 
a deep sense of moral rectitude ; who reasoned soundly, re- 



AND SCEXEFvY IN AMERICA. 79 

fleeted deeply, and acted in most cases consequentially. 
Property there was none, to afford a pretext for war, except- 
ing a little possessed by the Mohawks, which they knew so 
well how to defend, that their boundaries were never 
violated ; 

" For their awe and their fear was upon all the nations round about." ^. 

Territory could not be the genuine subject of contention in 
these thinly-peopled forests, where the ocean and the pole 
were the only limits of their otherwise boundless domain. 
The consequence attached to the authority of cMefs, who, as 
such, possessed no more property than others, and had not 
power to command a single vassal for their own personal 
benefit,' was not so considerable as to be the object of those 
wars. The chief privilege was, to be first in every danger- 
ous enterprise. They were loved and honored, but never, 
that I have heard of, traduced, envied, or removed from their 
painful pre-eminence. 

The only way in which these wars can be accounted for, 
is, first, from the general depravity of our nature, and from a 
singularly deep feeling of injury, and a high sense of national 
honor. They were not the hasty outbreakings of savage 
fury, but were commenced in the most solemn and deliberate 
manner ; and not without a prelude of remonstrances from 
the aggrieved party, and attempts to sooth and conciliate 
from the other. This digression must not be considered as 
altogether from the purpose. To return to the Indians, whose 
history has its use in illustrating that of mankind : they now 
became fully sensible of the importance they derived from 
the increased wealth and undefended state of the settlement. 
They discovered, too, that they held the balance between the 
interior settlements of France and England, which, though 
still distant from each other, were daily approximating. 

The Mohawks, though always brave and always faithful, 
felt a very allowable repugnance to expose the lives of their 
warriors in defence of those who made no effort to defend 
themselves ; who were neither protected by the arms of their 
sovereign, nor by their own courage. They came down to 
hold a solemn congress, at which the heads of the Schuyler 
and Cuyler families assisted ; and where it was agreed that, 
for the present, hostilities should be delayed, the hostile na- 



80 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



tions pacified by concessions and presents, and means adopt- 
ed to put the settlement into a state of defence against future 
aggressions. 

On all such occasions, when previously satisfied with re- 
gard to the justice of the grounds of quarrel, the Mohawks 
promised their hearty co-operation. This they were the 
readier to do, as their young brother Philip (for so they styled 
Colonel Schuyler) ofiered not only to head such troops as 
might be raised for this purpose, but to engage his two broth- 
ers, who were well acquainted with the whole frontier terri- 
tory, to serve on the same terms. This was a singular in- 
stance of public spirit in a young patriot, who was an entire 
stranger to the profession of arms, and whose sedate equa- 
nimity of character was adverse to every species of rashness 
or enthusiasm. Meantime the provisions of the above-men- 
tioned treaty could not be carried into eff'ect, till they were 
ratified by the assembly at New York, and approved by the 
governor. Of this there was little doubt : the difficulty was 
to raise and pay the troops. In the interim, while steps were 
taking to legalize this project, in 1719, the marriage between 
Colonel Schuyler and his cousin took place imder the hap- 
piest auspices. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Account of the Three Brothers, 



Colonel Schuyler and his two brothers all possessed a 
superior degree of intellect, and uncommon external advan- 
tages. Peter, the only one remaining when I knew the fam- 
ily, was still a comely and dignified-looking old gentleman ; 
and I was told his brothers were at least equal to him in this 
respect. His youngest brother, Jeremiah, who was much be- 
loved for a disposition frank, cheerful, and generous to excess, 
had previously married a lady from New York, with whom he 
obtained some fortune : a thing then singular in that country. 
This lady, whom, in her declining years, T knew very well, 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 81 



was the daughter of a wealthy and distinguished family of 
French protestants. She was lively, sensible, and well in- 
formed. 

Peter, the second, was married to a native of Albany. She 
died early ; but left behind two children, and the reputation 
of much worth, and great attention to her conjugal and ma- 
ternal duties. All these relations lived with each other, and 
with the new-married lady, in habits of the most cordial inti- 
macy and perfect confidence. They seemed, indeed, actua- 
ted by one spirit : having in all things similar views and sim- 
ilar principles. Looking up to the colonel as the head of the 
family, whose worth and affluence reflected consequence upon 
them all, they never dreamed of envying either his superior 
manners, or his wife's attainments, which they looked upon 
as a benefit and oruament to the whole. 

Soon after their marriage they paid a visit to New York, 
which they repeated once a year in the earlier period of their 
marriage, on account of their connection in that city, and the 
pleasing and intelligent society that was always to be met 
with there, both on account of its being the seat of govern- 
ment, and the residence of the commander-in-chief on the 
continent, who was then necessarily invested with consider- 
able power and privileges, and had, as well as the governor 
for the time being, a petty court assembled round him. At a 
very early period a better style of manners, greater ease, 
frankness, and polish prevailed at New York, than in any of 
the neighboring provinces. There was in particular a Brig- 
adier-general Hunter, of whom I have heard Mrs. Schuyler 
talk a great deal, as coinciding with her uncle and husband 
successively, in their plans either of defence or improvement. 
He, I think, was then governor, and was as acceptable to the 
Schuylers for his colloquial talents and friendly disposition, 
as estimable for his public spirit and application to business, 
in which respects he was not equalled by any of his success 
sors. In his circle the young couple were much distinguished. 
There were too among those leading families the Livings- 
tons and Rensselaers, friends connected with them both by 
blood and attachment. There was also another distinguished 
family to whom they were allied, and with whom they lived 
in cordial intimacy ; these were the De Lancys, of French 
descent, but, by subsequent intermarriages, blended with the 



82 Sketches of manners 

Dutch inhabitants. Of the French protestants there were 
many then in New York, as will be hereafter explained ; but 
as these conscientious exiles were persons allied in religion 
to the primitive settlers, and regular and industrious in their 
habits, they soon mingled with and became a part of that so- 
ciety, which was enlivened by their sprightly manners, and 
benefited by the useful arts they brought along with them. In 
this mixed society, which must have had attraction for young 
people of superior and, in some degree, cultivated intellect, 
this well-matched pair took great pleasure ; and here, no 
doubt, was improved that liberality of mind and manners which 
so much distinguished them from the less enlightened inhab- 
itants of their native city. They were so much caressed in 
Nev>^ York, and found so many charms in the intelligent and 
comparatively polished society of which tl^y made a part, that 
they had at first some thoughts of residing there. These, 
however, soon gave way to the persuasions of the old colonel, 
with whom they principally resided till his death, which hap- 
pened in 1721, two years after. This union was productive 
of all that felicity which might be expected to result from en- 
tire congeniality, not of sentiment only, but of original dispo- 
sitions, attachments, and modes of living and thinking. He 
had been accustomed to consider her, as a child, with tender 
endearment. She had been used to look up to him, from 
infancy, as the model of manly excellence ; and they drew 
knowledge and virtue from the same fountain, in the mind of 
that respectable parent whom they equally loved and revered. 



CHAPTER XVH. 
The House and Rural Economy of the Flats. — Birds and Insects. 

I HAVE already sketched a general outline of that pleasant 
home to which the colonel was now about to bring his be- 
loved. 

Before I resume my narrative, I shall indulge myself in a 
still more minute account of the premises, the mode of living, 
&;c., which will afford a more distinct idea of the country ; 
all the wealthy and informed people of the settlement living 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. S3 

on a smaller scale, pretty much in the same manner. Be it 
known, however, that the house I had so much delight in re- 
collecting had no pretension to grandeur, and very little to el- 
egance. It was a large brick house of two, or rather three, 
stories, (for there were excellent attics,) besides a sunk story, 
finished with the exactest neatness. The lower floor had tv/o 
spacious rooms, with large light closets ; on the first there 
were three rooms, and in the upper one four. Through the 
middle of the house was a very wide passage, with opposite 
front and back doors, which in summer admitted a stream of 
air peculiarly grateful to the languid senses. It was furnish- 
ed with chairs and pictures like a summer parlor. Here the 
family usually sat in hot weather, when there were no cere- 
monious strangers. 

Valuable furniture (though perhaps not very well chosen 
or assorted) was the favorite luxury of these people, and in 
all the houses I remember, except those of the brothers, who 
were every way more liberal, the mirrors, the paintings, the 
china, but, above all, the state-bed, were considered as the 
family Teraphim, secretly worshipped, and only exhibited on 
very rare occasions. But in Colonel Schuyler s family the 
rooms were merely shut up to keep the flies, which in that 
country are an absolute nuisance, from spoiling the furniture. 
Another motive was, that they might be pleasantly cool when 
opened for company. This house had also two appendages 
common to all those belonging to persons in easy circum- 
stances there. One was a large portico at the door, with a 
few steps leading up to it, and floored like a room ; it was 
open at the sides, and had seats all round. Above was either 
a slight wooden roof, painted like an awning, or a covering 
of lattice-work, over which a transplanted wild vine spread 
its luxuriant leaves and numerous clusters. The grapes, 
though small, and rather too acid till sweetened by the frost, 
had a beautiful appearance. What gave an air of liberty and 
safety to these rustic porticoes, which always produced in my 
mind a sensation of pleasure that I know not how to define, 
was the number of little birds domesticated there. For their 
accommodation there was a small shelf built within the por- 
tico, where they nestled safely from the touch of slaves and 
children, who were taught to regard them as the good genii 
of the place, not to be disturbed with impunity. 



84 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

I do not recollect sparrows there, except the wood-sparrow. 
These little birds were of various kinds peculiar to the coun- 
try ; but the one most frequent and familiar was a pretty little 
creature, of a bright cinnamon color, called a wren, though 
faintly resembling the one to which we give that name, for it 
is more sprightly, and flies higher. Of these and other small 
birds, hundreds gave and received protection around this hos- 
pitable dwelling. The protection they received consisted 
merely in the privilege of being let alone. That which they 
bestowed was of more importance than any inhabitant of 
Britain can imagine. In these new countries, where man 
has scarce asserted his dominion, life swarms abundantly on 
every side ; the insect population is numerous beyond belief, 
and the birds that feed on them are in proportion to their 
abundance. In process of time, as their sheltering woods 
are cleared, all these recede before their masters, but not un- 
til his empire is fully established. Such minute aerial foes 
are more harassing than the terrible inhabitants of the forest, 
and more difficult to expel. It is only by protecting, and in 
some sort domesticating, these little winged allies, who attack 
them in their own element, that the conqueror of the lion and 
tamer of the elephant can hope to sleep in peace, or eat his 
meals unpolluted. While breakfasting or drinking tea in the 
airy portico, which was often the scene of these meals, birds 
were constantly gliding over the table with a butterfly, grass- 
hopper, or cicada in their bills, to feed their young, who were 
chirping above. These familiar inmates brushed by without 
ceremony, while the chimney-swallow, the martin, and other 
hirundines_, in countless numbers, darted past in pursuit of 
this aerial population, and the fields resounded with the cease- 
less chirping of many insects unknown to our more temperate 
summers. These were now and then mingled with the ani- 
mated and not unpleasing cry of the tree-frog, a creature of 
that species, but of a light slender form, almost transparent, 
and of a lively green : it is dry to the touch, and has not the 
dank rhoisture of its aquatic relations ; in short, it is a pretty 
lively creature, with a singular and cheerful note. This loud 
and not unpleasing insect-chorus, with the swarms of gay 
butterflies in constant motion, enliven scenes to which the 
prevalence of woods, rising " shade above shade," on every 
side, would otherwise give a still and solemn aspect. Several 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 85 

objects, which, with us, are no small additions to the softened 
changes and endless charms of rural scenery, it must be con- 
fessed, are wanting there. No lark welcomes the sun that 
rises to gild the dark forest and gleaming lakes of America ; 
no mellow thrush nor deep-toned blackbird warbles through 
these awful solitudes, or softens the balmy hour of twilight 
with 

" The liquid language of the groves." 

Twilight itself, the mild and shadowy hour, so soothing to 
every feeling, every pensive mind ; that soft transition from 
day to night, so dear to peace, so due to meditation, is here 
scarce known, at least only known to have its shortness re- 
gretted. No daisy hastens to meet the spring, or embellishes 
the meads in summer : here no purple heath exhales its 
wholesome odor, or decks the arid waste with the chastened 
glow of its waving bells. No bonny broom, such as enlivens 
the narrow vales of Scotland with its gaudy blow, nor flower- 
ing furze with its golden blossoms, defying the cold blasts of 
early spring, animates their sandy wilds. There the white- 
blossomed sloe does not forerun the orchard's bloom, nor the 
pale primrose shelter its modest head beneath the- tangled 
shrubs. Nature, bountiful yet not profuse, has assigned her 
various gifts to various climes, in such a manner, that none 
can claim a decided pre-eminence ; and every country has 
peculiar charms, which endear it to the natives beyond any 
other. — I have been tempted by lively recollections into a 
digression rather unwarrantable. To return : 

At the back of the large house was a smaller and lower 
one, so joined to it as to make the form of a cross. There 
one or two lower and smaller rooms below, and the same 
number above, afforded a refuge to the family during the 
rigors of winter, when the spacious summer-rooms would 
have been intolerably cold, and the smoke of prodigious wood- 
fires would have sullied the elegantly clean furniture. Here, 
too, was a sunk story, where the kitchen was immediately 
below the eating-parlor, and increased the general warmth of 
the house. In summer the negroes inhabited shght outer 
kitchens, in which food was dressed for the family. Those 
who wrought in the fields often had their simple dinner cook- 
ed without, and ate it under the shade of a great tree. One 

8 



86 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

room, I should have said, in the greater house only, was 
opened for the reception of company ; all the rest were bed- 
chambers for their accommodation ; the domestic friends of 
the family occupying neat little bedrooms in the attics, or in 
the winter-house. This house contained no drawing-room ; 
that was an unheard-of luxury: the winter-rooms had carpets; 
the lobby had oilcloth painted in lozenges, to imitate blue and 
white marble. The best bedroom was hung with family por- 
traits, some of which were admirably executed ; and in the 
eating-room, which, by the by, was rarely used for that pur- 
pose, were some fine scripture-paintings ; that which made 
the greatest impression on my imagination, and seemed to be 
universally admired, was one of Esau coming to demand the 
anticipated blessing ; the noble manly figure of the luckless 
hunter, and the anguish expressed in his comely, though 
strong-featured countenance, I shall never forget. The house 
fronted the river, on the brink of which, under shades of elm 
and sycamore, ran the great road towards Saratoga, Stillwater, 
and the northern lakes ; a little simple avenue of morella 
cherry-trees, enclosed with a white rail, led to the road and 
river, not three hundred yards distant. Adjoining to this, on 
the south side, was an enclosure subdivided into three parts, 
of which the first was a small hay-field, opposite the south 
end of the house ; the next, not so long, a garden ; and the 
third, by far the largest, an orchard. These were surrounded 
by simple deal-fences. Now let not the genius that presides 
over pleasure-grounds, nor any of his elegant votaries, revolt 
with disgust while I mention the unseemly ornaments which 
were exhibited on the stakes to which the deals of these same 
fences were bound. Truly they consisted of the skeleton 
heads of horses and cattle, in as great numbers as could be 
procured, stuck upon the abovesaid poles. This was not 
mere ornament either, but a most hospitable arrangement for 
the accommodation of the small familiar birds before described. 
The jaws are fixed on the pole, and the skull uppermost. The 
wren, on seeing a skull thus' placed, never fails to enter by 
the orifice, which is too small to admit the hand of an infant, 
lines the pericranium with small twigs and horsehair, and 
there lays her eggs in full security. It is very amusing to 
see the little creature carelessly go out and in at this aperture, 
though you should be standing immediately beside it. Not 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 87 

satisfied with providing these singular asylums for their feath- 
ered friends, the negroes never fail to make a small round 
hole in the crown of every old hat they can lay their hands 
on, and nail it to the end of the kitchen, for the same pur- 
pose. You often see in such a one, at once, thirty or forty 
of these odd little domicils, with the inhabitants busily going 
out and in. 

Besides all these salutary provisions for the domestic com- 
fort of the birds, there was, in clearing the way for their first 
establishment, a tree always left in the middle of the back- 
yard, for their sole emolument : this tree being purposely 
pollarded at midsummer, when all the branches were full of 
sap. Wherever there had been a branch, the decay of the 
inside produced a hole ; and every hole was the habitation of 
a bird. These were of various kinds ; some had a pleasing 
note, but, on the whole, their songsters are far inferior to ours. 
I rather dwell on these minutiae, as they not only mark the pecu- 
liarities of the country, but convey very truly the image of a 
people not too refined for happiness, which, in the process of 
elegant luxury, is apt to die of disgust. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Description of Colonel Schuyler's Barn, the Common, and its various uses. 

Adjoining to the orchard was the most spacious barn I ever 
beheld ; which I shall describe for the benefit of such of my 
readers as have never seen a building constructed on a plan 
so comprehensive. This barn, which, as will hereafter ap- 
pear, answered many beneficial purposes besides those usually 
allotted for such edifices, was of a vast size, at least a hun- 
dred feet long, and sixty wide. The roof rose to a very great 
height in the midst, and sloped down till it came within, ten 
feet of the ground, when the walls commenced ; which, like 
the whole of this vast fabric, were formed of wood. It was 
raised three feet from the ground by beams resting on 
stone ; and on these beams was laid, in the middle of the 
building, a very massive oak floor. Before the door was a 



88 SKETCHES OF MANNErvS 

large sill, sloping downwards, of the same materials. A 
breadth of about twelve feet on each side of this capacious 
building was divided off for cattle ; on one side ran a manger, 
at the above-mentioned distance from the wall, the whole 
length of the building, with a rack above it ; on the other 
were stalls for the other cattle, running also the whole length 
of the building. The cattle and horses stood with their hinder 
parts to the wall, and their heads towards the thrashing floor. 
There was a prodigious large box or open chest in one side, 
built up for holding the corn after it was thrashed ; and the roof, 
which was very lofty and spacious, was supported by large 
cross-beams. From one to the other of these was stretched 
a great number of long poles, so as to form a sort of open 
loft, on which the whole rich crop was laid up. The floor 
of those parts of the barn, which answered the purposes of a 
stable and cow-house, was made of thick slab deals, laid loosely 
over the supporting beams. And the mode of cleaning those 
places was by turning the boards, and permitting the dung 
and litter to fall into the receptacles left open below for the 
purpose ; thence in spring they were often driven down to the 
river, the soil, in its original state, not requiring the aid of ma- 
nure. In the front* of this vast edifice there were prodigious 
folding-doors, and two others that opened behind. 

Certainly never did cheerful rural toils wear a more exhil- 
arating aspect than while the domestics were lodging the 
luxuriant harvest in this capacious repository. When speak- 
ing of the doors, I should have mentioned that they were 
made in the gable ends ; those in the back equally large to 
correspond with those in the front ; while on each side of 
the great doors were smaller ones, for the cattle and horses 
to enter. Whenever the corn or hay was reaped or cut, and 
ready for carrying home, which in that dry and warm climate 
happened in a very few days, a wagon loaded with hay, for 
instance, was driven into the midst of this great barn ; loaded 
also with numberless large grasshoppers, butterflies, and ci- 
cadas, who came along with the hay. From the top of the 
wagon, this was immediately forked up into the loft of the 
barn, in the midst of which was an open space left for the 
purpose ; and then the unloaded wagon drove, in rustic 

* By the front is meant the gable end, whie'i contains the entrance. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 89 

State, out of the great door at the other end. In the mean 
time every member of the family witnessed or assisted in this 
summary process ; by which the building and tliatching of 
stacks was at once saved ; and the whole crop and cattle 
were thus compendiously lodged under one roof. 

The cheerfulness of this animated scene was much height- 
ened by the quick appearance and vanishing of the swallows, 
which twittered among their high-built dwellings in the roof. 
Here, as in every other instance, the safety of these domes- 
tic friends was attended to, and an abode provided for them. 
In the front of this barn were many holes, like those of a 
pigeon-house, for the accommodation of the martin — that be- 
ing the species to which this kind of home seems most con- 
genial ; and, in the inside of the barn, I have counted above 
fourscore at once. In the winter, when the earth was buried 
deep in new-fallen snow, and no path fit for walking in was 
left, this barn was like a great gallery, well suited for that 
purpose ; and furnished with pictures not unpleasing to a 
simple and contented mind. As you walked through this 
long area, looking up, you beheld the abundance of the year 
treasured above you ; on one side the comely heads of your 
snorting steeds presented themselves, arranged in seemly 
order : on the other, your kine displayed their meeker vis- 
ages, while the perspective, on either, was terminated by 
heifers and fillies no less interesting. In the midst your ser- 
vants exercised the flail ; and even while they thrashed out 
the straw, distributed it to the expectants on both sides ; 
while the " liberal handful" was occasionally thrown to the 
many-colored poultry on the sill. Winter itself never made 
this abode of life and plenty cold and cheerless. Here you 
might walk and view all your subjects, and their means of 
support, at one glance ; except, indeed, the sheep, for which 
a large and commodious building was erected very near the 
barn ; the roof containing a loft large enough to hold hay 
sufficient for their winter's food. 

Colonel Schuyler's barn was by far the largest I have ever 
seen ; but all of them, in that country, were constructed on 
the same plan, furnished with the same accommodation, and 
presented the same cheering aspect. The orchard, as I for- 
merly mentioned, was on the south side of the barn ; on the 
north, a little farther back towards the wood, which formed^ 

8* 



90 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

a dark screen behind this smiling prospect, there was an en- 
closure, in which the remains of the deceased members of 
the family were deposited. A field of pretty large extent, 
adjoining to the house on that side, remained uncultivated 
and unenclosed ; over it were scattered a few large apple- 
trees of a peculiar kind, ttie fruit of which was never appro- 
priated. This piece of level and productive land, so near 
the family mansion, and so adapted to various and useful 
purposes, was never occupied, but left open as a public ben- 
efit. 

From the known liberality of this munificent family, all 
Indians, or new settlers, on their journey, whether they came 
by land or water, rested here. The military, in passing, 
always formed a camp on this common ; and here the Indian 
wigwams were often planted ; here all manner of garden- 
stuff, fruit, and milk, were plentifully distributed to wander- 
ers of all descriptions. Every summer, for many years, 
there was an encampment, either of regular or provincial 
troops, on this common ; and often, when the troops pro- 
ceeded northward, a little colony of helpless women and 
children, belonging to them, was left in a great measure de- 
pendent on the compassion of these worthy patriarchs ; for 
such the brothers might be justly called. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



Military Preparations. — Disinterested conduct, the surest road to Popu- 
larity. — Fidelity of the Mohawks. 

The first year of the colonel's marriage was spent chiefly 
in New York, and in visits to the friends of his bride, and 
other relations. The following years they passed at home, 
surrounded daily by his brothers, with their families, and 
other relatives, with whom they maintained the most affec- 
tionate intercourse. The colonel, however, (as I have called 
him by anticipation,) had his mind engaged at this time, by 
public duties of the most urgent nature. He was a member 
•of the colonial assembly ; and, by a kind of hereditary right, 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 91 

was obliged to support that character of patriotism, courage, 
and public wisdom, which had so eminently distinguished his 
father. The father of Mrs. Schuyler, too, had been long 
mayor of Albany, at that time an office of great importance ; 
as including, within itself, the entire civil power exercised 
over the whole settlement as well as the town, and having a 
sort of patriarchal authorit)^ attached to it ; for these people, 
though little acquainted with coercion, and by no means in- 
clined to submit to it, had a profound reverence, as is gener- 
ally the case in the infancy of society, for the families of 
their first leaders ; whom they had looked up to merely as 
knowing them to possess superior worth, talent, and enter- 
prise. In a society, as yet uncorrupted, the value of this 
rich inheritance can only be diminished by degradation of 
character in the representative of a family thus self-enno- 
bled ; especially if he be disinterested ; this, though appa- 
rently a negative quality, being the one of all others which, 
combined with the higher powers of mind, most engages af- 
fection in private, and esteem in public life. This is a shield 
that blunts the shafts which envy never fails to level at the 
prosperous, even in old establishments ; where, from the very 
nature of things, a' thousand obstructions rise in the upward 
path of merit ; and a thousand temptations appear to mislead 
it from its direct road ; and where the rays of opinion are 
refracted by so many prejudices of contending interests and 
factions. Still, if any charm can be found to fix that fleeting 
phantom popularity, this is it. It would be very honorable to 
human nature, if this could be attributed to the pure love of 
virtue ; but, alas ! multitudes are not made up of the wise, or 
of the virtuous. Yet the very selfishness of our nature in- 
clines us to love and trust those who are not likely to desire 
any benefit from us, in return for those they confer. Other 
vices may be, if not social, in some degree gregarious ; but 
even the avaricious hate avarice in all but themselves. 

Thus, inheriting unstained integrity, unbounded popularity, 
a cool determined spirit, and ample possessions, no man had 
fairer pretensions to unlimited sway, in the sphere in which 
he moved, than the colonel ; but of this no man could be less 
desirous. He was too wise, and too happy to solicit author- 
ity ; and yet too public-spirited and too generous to decline 



92 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

it, when any good was to be done or any evil resisted, from 
which no private benefit resulted to himself. 

Young as his wife was, and much as she valued the bless- 
ing of their union, and the pleasure of his society, she show- 
ed a spirit worthy of a Roman matron, in willingly risking 
all her happiness, even in that early period of her marriage, 
consenting to his assuming a military command, and leading 
forth the provincial troops against the common enemy, who 
had now become more boldly dangerous than ever. Not 
content with secretly stimulating to acts of violence the In- 
dian tribes, who were their allies, and enemies to the Mo- 
hawks, the French Canadians, in violation of existing treaties, 
began to make incursions on the slightest pretexts. It was 
no common warfare in which the colonel was about to engage. 
But the duties of entering on vigorous measures, for. the de- 
fence of the country, became not only obvious but urgent. No 
other person but he had influence enough to produce any co- 
herence among the people of that district, or any determina- 
tion, with their own arms and at their own cost, to attack the 
common enemy. As formerly observed, this had hitherto 
been trusted to the five confederate Mohawk nations, who, 
though still faithful to their old friends, had too much saga- 
city and observation, and indeed too strong a sense of native 
rectitude, to persuade their young warriors to go on venturing 
their lives in defence of those who, from their increased power 
and numbers, were able to defend themselves with the aid of 
their allies. Add to this, that their possessions were on all 
sides daily extending; and that they, the Albanians, were 
carrying their trade for furs, &c., into the deepest recesses 
of the forests, and towards these great lakes, which the Ca- 
nadians were accustomed to consider as the boundaries of 
their dominions ; and where they had Indians whom they 
were at great pains to attach to themselves, and to inspire 
against us and our allies. 

Colonel Schuyler's father had held the same rank in a pro- 
vincial corps formerly; but in his time there was a profound 
peace in the district he inhabited ; though, from his resolute 
temper and knowledge of public business, and of the differ- 
ent Indian languages, he was selected to head a regiment 
raised in the Jerseys, and the adjacent bounds, for the defence 
of the back frontiers of Pennsylvania, New England, &c. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 



93 



Colonel Philip Schuyler was the first who raised a corps in 
the interior of the province of New York ; this was not only 
done by his personal influence, but occasioned him a con- 
siderable expense, though the regiment was paid by the 
province, which also furnished arras and military stores ; 
their service being, like that of all provincials, limited to the 
summer half-year. 

The governor and chief commander came up to Albany to 
view and approve the preparations making for this interior 
war, and to meet the congress of Indian sachems, who, on 
that occasion, renewed their solemn league with their brother 
the great king. Colonel Schuyler, being then the person 
they most looked up to and confided in, was their proxy on 
this occasion in ratifying an engagement, to which they «ver 
adhered with singular fidelity ; and mutual presents bright- 
ened the chain of amity, to use their own figurative language. 

The common and the barn, at the Flats, were fully occu- 
pied, and the hospitable mansion, as was usual on all public 
occasions, overflowed. There the general, his aid-de-camps, 
the sachems, and the principal oflficers of the colonel's regi- 
ment, were received ; and those of the next class, who could 
not find room there, were accommodated by Peter and Jere- 
miah. On the common was an Indian encampment ; and 
the barn and orchard were full of the provincials. All these 
last brought as usual their own food ; but were supplied by 
this liberal family with every production of the garden, dairy, 
and orchard. While the colonel's judgment was exercised 
in the necessary regulations for this untried warfare, Mrs. 
Schuyler, by the calm fortitude she displayed in this trying 
exigency, by the good sense and good breeding with which 
she accommodated her numerous and various guests, and by 
those judicious attentions to family concerns, which, produ- 
cing order and regularity through every department without 
visible bustle and anxiety, enable the mistress of a family to 
add grace and ease to hospitality, showed herself worthy of 
her distinguished lot. 



94 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 



CHAPTER XX. 

Account of a refractory Warrior, and of the spirit which still pervaded 
the New England provinces. 

While these preparations were going on, the general* was 
making every effort of the neighborhood to urge those who 
had promised assistance, to come forward with their allotted 
quotas. 

On the other side of the river, not very far from the Flats, 
lived a person whom I shall not name ; though his conduct 
was so peculiar and characteristic of the times, that his anti- 
heroism is on that sole account worth mentioning. This 
person lived in great security and abundance, in a place like 
an earthly paradise, and having had considerable wealth left 
to him, scarcely knew an ungratified wish ; the simple and 
domestic habits of his life, had formed no desires beyond it, 
unless indeed it were the desire of being thought a brave 
man, which seemed his greatest ambition ; he was strong, 
robust, and an excellent marksman, talked loud, looked fierce, 
and always expressed the utmost scorn and detestation of 
cowardice. The colonel applied to him, that his name, and 
the names of such adherents as he could bring, might be set 
down in the list of those who were to bring their quota, by a 
given time, for the general defence : with the request he 
complied. When the rendezvous came on, this talking war- 
rior had changed his mind, and absolutely refused to appear ; 
the general sent for him, and warmly expostulated on his 
breach of promise, the bad example, and the disarrangement 
of plan which it occasioned : the culprit spoke in a high tone, 
saying, very truly, " that the general was possessed of no 
legal means of coercion ; that every one went or stayed, as 
he chose ; and that his change of opinion on that subject 
rendered him liable to no penalty whatever." Tired of this 
sophistry, the enraged general had recourse to club law ; and 
seizing a cudgel, belabored this recreant knight most manful- 
ly ; while several Indian sachems, and many of his own coun- 

* Sliirley. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 95 

• ^ 

trymen and friends, coolly stood by ; for tlie colonel's noted 
common was the scene of his assault. Our poor neighbor 
(as he long after became) suffered this dreadful bastinado, 
unaided and unpitied ; and this example, and the consequent 
contempt under which he labored, (for he was ever after 
styled Captain, and did not refuse the title,) was said to have 
an excellent effect in preventing such retrograde motions in 
subsequent campaigns.* The provincial troops, aided by the 
faithful Mohawks, performed their duty with great spirit and 
perseverance. They were, indeed, very superior to the 
ignorant, obstinate, and mean-souled beings, who, in after- 
times, brought the very name of provincial troops into dis- 
credit ; and were actuated by no single motive but that of 
avoiding the legal penalty then afhxed to disobedience, and 
enjoying the pay and provisions allotted to them by the pro- 
vince, or the mother country, 1 cannot exactly say which. 
Afterwards, when the refuse of mankind were selected, like 
Falstaff's soldiers, and raised much in the same way, the 
New York troops still maintained their respectability. This 
superiority might, without reproaching others, be in some 
measure accounted for from incidental causes. The four 
New England provinces were much earlier settled, sooner 
assumed the forms of a civil community, and lived within 
narrower bounds ; they were more laborious ; their fanati- 
cism, which they brought from England in its utmost fervor, 
long continued its effervescence, where there were no plea- 
sures, nor indeed lucrative pursuits, to detach their minds 
from it ; and long after, that genuine spirit of piety, which, 
however narrowed and disfigured, was still sincere, had in a 

*.Above thirty years after, when the writer of these pages Hved with 
her family at the Flats, the hero of this little tale used very frequently to 
visit her father, a veteran officer ; and being a great talker, war and poli- 
tics were his incessant topics. There was no campaign nor expedition 
proposed but what he censured and decided on ; proposing methods of his 
own, by which they might have been much better conducted ; in short, 
Parolles with his drum was a mere type of our neighbor. Mrs. Schuyler's 
father long wondered how he took to him so kindly, and how a person of 
so much wealth and eloquence should dwell so obscurely, and shun all 
the duties of public life ; till at length we discovered that he still loved to 
talk arrogantly of war and public affairs, and pitched upon him for a lis- 
tener, as the only person he could suppose ignorant of his disgrace. Such 
is human nature ! and so incurable is human vanity ! I 



96 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 

« 

great measure evaporated ; enough of the pride and rigor of 
bigotry remained to make them detest and despise the Indian 
tribes, as ignorant heathen savages. The tribes, indeed, 
who inhabited their district, had been so weakened by an un- 
successful warfare with the Mohawks, and were every way 
so inferior to them, that after the first estabUshment of the 
colony, and a few feeble attacks successfully repulsed, they 
were no longer enemies to be dreaded, or friends to be court- 
ed. This had an unhappy effect with regard to those pro- 
vinces ; and to the different relations in which they stood 
with respect to the Indians, some part of the striking differ- 
ence in the moral and military character of these various es- 
tablishments must be attributed. 

The people of New England left the mother country, as 
banished from it by what they considered oppression ; came 
over foaming with religious and political fury, and narrowly 
missed having the most artful and able of demagogues, Crom- 
well himself, for their leader and guide. They might be 
compared to lava, discharged by the fury of internal combus- 
tion, from the bosom of the commonwealth, while inflamed 
by contending elements. This lava, every one acquainted 
with the convulsions of nature must know, takes a long time 
to cool ; and when at length it is cooled, turns to a substance 
hard and barren, that long resists the kindly influence of the 
elements, before its surface resumes the appearance of beauty 
and fertility. Such were almost literally the effects of polit- 
ical convulsions, aggravated by a fiery and intolerant zeal for 
their own mode of worship, on these self-righteous colonists. 

These preliminary remarks on the diversity of character 
in these neighboring provinces lead the way, in the mean 
time, to a discrimination, the effects of which have becgme 
interesting to the whole world. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 97 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Distinguishing characteristics of the New York colonists, to what owing. 
— Huguenots and Palatines, their character. 

But to return to the superior moral and military character 
of the New York populace. — It was, in the first place, owing 
to a well-regulated piety, less concerned about forms than es- 
sentials : next, to an influx of other than the original settlers, 
which tended to render the general system of opinion more 
liberal and tolerant. The French protestants, driven from 
their native land by intolerant bigotry, had lived at home, ex- 
cluded alike from public employments and fashionable society. 
Deprived of so many resources that were open to their fellow- 
subjects, and forced to seek comfort in piety and concord for 
many privations, self-command and frugality had been in a 
manner forced upon them ; consequently they were not so vain 
nor so volatile as to disgust their new associates ; while their 
cheerful tempers, accommodating manners, and patience un- 
der adversity, were very prepossessing. 

These additional inhabitants, being such as had suffered 
real and extreme hardships for conscience' sake from absolute 
tyranny and the most cruel intolerance, rejoiced in the free 
exercise of a pure and rational religion, and in the protection 
of mild and equitable laws, as the first of human blessings ; 
which privation had so far taught them to value, that they 
thought no exertion too great to preserve them. I should 
have formerly mentioned, that, besides the French refugees 
already spoken of, during the earliest period of the establish- 
ment of the British sovereignty in this part of the continent, 
a great number of the protestants, whom the fury of war and 
persecution on religious accounts had driven from the Pala- 
tinate, (during the successful and desolating period of the 
wars carried on against that unhappy country by Louis the 
Fourteenth,) had found refuge here. The subdued and con- 
tented spirit, the simple and primitive manners, and frugal, 
industrious habits of these genuine sufferers for conscience' 
sake, made them an acquisition to any society which received 
them, and a most suitable leaven among the inhabitants of this 

9 



98 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

province ; who, devoted to the pursuits of agriculture and the 
Indian trade, which encouraged a wild romantic spirit of ad- 
venture, little relished those mechanical employments, or that 
petty yet necessary traffic in shops, <fcc., to which a part of 
every regulated society must needs devote their attention. 
These civic toils were left to those patient and industrious 
exiles, while the friendly intercourse with the original natives 
had strongly tinctured the first colonists with many of their 
habits and modes of thinking. I^ike them, they delighted in 
hunting — that image of war, which so generally, where it is 
the prevalent amusement, forms the body to athletic force and 
patient endurance, and the mind to daring intrepidity. The 
timorous deer or the feeble hare were not alone the objects of 
their pursuit ; nor could they in such an impenetrable country 
attempt to rival the fox in speed or subtlety. When they 
kept their " few sheep in the wilderness," the she-bear, jeal- 
ous for her young, and the wolf, furious for prey, were to be 
encountered in their defence. From these allies, too, many 
who lived much among them had learned that fearless adhe- 
rence to truth, which exalts the mind to the noblest kind of 
resolution. The dangers to which they were exposed, of 
meeting wandering individuals, or parties of hostile Indians, 
while traversing the woods in their sporting or commercial 
adventures, and the necessity that sometimes occurred of de- 
fending their families by their own personal prowess, from 
the stolen irruptions of detached parties of those usually call- 
ed the French Indians, had also given their minds a warlike 
bent ; and as a boy was not uncommonly trusted at nine or 
ten years of age with a light fowling-piece, which he soon 
learned to use with great dexterity, few countries could pro- 
duce such dexterous marksmen, or persons so well qualified 
for conquering those natural obstacles, of thick woods and 
swamps, which would at once baffle the most determined Eu- 
ropean. Not only were they strong of limb, swift of foot, 
and excellent marksmen — the hatchet was as familiar to them 
as the musket ; and an amateur, who had never cut wood but 
for his diversion, could hew down a tree with a celerity that 
would astonish and abash a professed woodcutter in this 
country ; in short, when means or arguments could be used 
powerful enough to collect a people so uncontrolled and so 
uncontrollable ; .and when headed by a leader whom they 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 99 

loved and trusted so much as they did Colonel Schuyler, a 
well-armed body of New York provincials had nothing to 
dread but an ague or an ambuscade, to both of which they 
were much exposed on the banks of the lakes, and amidst 
the swampy forests they had to penetrate in pursuit of an 
enemy ; of whom they might say with the Grecian hero, that 
" they wanted but daylight to conquer him." The first essay 
in arms of those provincials, under the auspices of their brave 
and generous leader, succeeded beyond their hopes. This is 
all I can recollect of it. Of its destination I only know that 
it was directed against some of those establishments which 
the French began to make within the British boundaries. 
The expedition terminated only with the season. The pro- 
vincials brought home Canadian prisoners, who were kept on 
their parole in the houses of the three brothers, and became 
afterwards their friends ; and the Five Nations brought home 
Indian prisoners, (most of whom they adopted,) and scalps 
enough to strike awe into th^ adverse nations, who were for 
a year or two afterwards pretty quiet. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



A child still-bom. — Adoption of children common in the province. — 
Madame's Visit to New York. 

Mrs. Schuyler had contributed all in her power to for- 
ward this expedition ; but was probably hurt, either by the 
fatigue of receiving so many friends, or the anxiety produced 
by parting with them under such circumstances ; for soon af- 
ter the colonel's departure she was delivered of a dead child, 
which event was followed by an alarming illness ; but she 
wished the colonel to be kept ignorant of it, that he might 
give his undivided attention to the duties in which he was 
engaged. Providence, which doubtless had singled out this 
benevolent pair to be the parents of many who had no natural 
claim upon their affection, did not indulge them with any suc- 
ceeding prospects of a family of their own. That privation, 
not a frequent one in the colony, did not chill the minds or 



100 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

narrow the hearts of people, who, from this circumstance, 
found themselves more at liberty to extend their beneficence, 
and enlarge that circle which embraced the objects of their 
love and care. This, indeed, was not singular during that 
reign of natural feeling which preceded the prevalence of 
artificial modes in this primitive district. The love of ofT- 
.spring is certainly one of the strongest desires that the uncor- 
rupted mind forms to itself in a state of comparative innocence. 
Affecting indifference on this subject is the surest proof of a 
disposition either callous, or led by extreme vanity to pretend 
insensibility to the best feelings of nature. 

To a tie so exquisitely tender, the pledge and bond of con- 
nubial union ; to that bud of promised felicity, which always 
cheers with the fragrance of hope the noonday of toil or 
care, and often supports with the rich cordial of filial love 
and watchful duty the evening of our decline, what mind can 
be indifferent ! No wonder the joys of paternity should be 
highly relished where they were so richly flavored ; where 
parents knew not what it was to find a rebel or a rival in a 
child ; first, because they set the example of simplicity, of 
moderation, and of seeking their highest joys in domestic 
life; next, because they quietly expected and calmly wel- 
comed the evening of life ; and did not, by an absurd desire 
of being young too long, inspire their offspring with a prema- 
ture ambition to occupy their place. What sacrifices have I 
not seen made to filial piety ! How many respectable (though 
not young) maidens, who, without pretending a dislike to 
marriage, have rejected men whom their hearts approved, be- 
cause they would not forsake, during her lifetime, a widowed 
mother, whose sole comfort they were ! 

For such children, who, that hopes to grow old, would not 
wish ? A consideration which the more polished manners of 
Europe teach us to banish as far as possible from our minds. 
We have learned to check this natural sentiment by finding 
other objects for those faculties of our minds, which nature 
intended to bless and benefit creatures born to love us, and to 
enlarge our affections by exciting them. If this stream, 
which so naturally inclines to flow downwards, happened to 
be checked in its course for want of the usual channel, these 
adepts in the science of happiness immediately formed a new 
one, and liked their canal as well as a river, because it was 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 101 

of their own making. To speak without a metaphor, whoever 
wanted a child adopted one ; love produced love, and the 
grafted scion very often proved an ornament and defence to 
the supporting stock. But then the scion was generally art- 
less and grateful. This is a part of the manners of my old 
friends which I always remember with delight ; more partic- 
ularly as it was the invariable custom to select the child of a 
friend who had a numerous family. The very animals are 
not devoid of that mixture of affection and sagacity which 
suggests a mode of supplying this great desideratum. Next 
to that prince of cats, the famous cat of Whittington, I would 
place the cat recorded by Dr. White in his curious natural 
history, who, when deprived of her young, sought a parcel 
of deserted leverets to suckle and to fondle. What an ex- 
ample ! 

The following year produced a suspension of hostilities be- 
tween the provinces and the Canadians. The colonel went 
to New York to attend his duty, being again chosen a mem- 
ber of the colonial assembly. Mrs. Schuyler accompanied 
him ; and being improved both in mind and manners since her 
marriage, which, by giving her a more important part to act, 
had called forth her powers, she became the centre of a cir- 
cle by no means inelegant or uninformed ; for society was 
there more various and more polished than in any other part 
of the continent, both from the mixture of settlers, formerly 
described, and from its being situated in a province most fre- 
quently the seat of war, and consequently forming the head- 
quarters of the army, which, in point of the birth and educa- 
tion of the candidates for promotion, was on a very different 
footing from what it has been since. It was then a much 
narrower range, and the selection more attended to. Unless 
a man, by singular powers or talent, fought his way from the 
inferior rank, here was hardly an instance of a person getting 
even a subaltern's commission whose birth was not at least 
genteel, and who had not interest and alliances. There were 
not so many lucrative places under government. The wide 
field of adventure since opened in the east was scarcely 
known ; a subaltern's pay was more adequate to the mainte- 
nance of a gentleman ; and the noblest and most respected 
families had no other way of providing for such younger 
brothers as were not bred to any learned profession, but by 

9* ' 



102 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

throwing them into the army. As to morals, this did not per- 
haps much mend the matter. These officers might in some 
instances be thoughtless, and even profligate, but they were 
seldom ignorant or low-bred ; and that rare character called a 
finished gentleman, was not unfrequently to be found among 
the higher ranks of them, who had added experience, read- 
ing, and reflection to their original stock of talents and at- 
tainments. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



Colonel Schuyler's partiality to the military children successively adopted. 
— Indian character falsely charged with idleness. 

It so happened that a succession of officers, of the de- 
scription mentioned in the preceding chapter, were to be or- 
dered upon the service which I have been detailing ; and 
whether in New York or at home, they always attached 
themselves particularly to this family, who, to the attractions 
of good breeding,'and easy, intelligent conversation, added the 
power, which they pre-eminently possessed, of smoothing the 
way for their necessary intercourse with the independent and 
self-righted settlers, and of instructing them in many things 
essential to promote the success of the pursuits in which they 
were about to engage. It was one of aunt Schuyler's many 
singular merits, that, after acting for a time a distinguished 
part in this comparatively refined society, where few were so 
much admired and esteemed, she could return to the homely 
good sense and primitive manners of her fellow-citizens at 
Albany, free from fastidiousness and disgust. Few, indeed, 
without study or design, ever better understood the art of 
being happy, and making others so. Being gay is another 
sort of thing ; gayety, as the word is understood in society, 
is too often assumed, artificial, and produced by such an ef- 
fort, that, in the midst of laughter, " the heart is indeed sad." 
Very diff'erent are the smiles that occasionally illume the 
placid countenance of cheerful tranquillity. They are the 
emanations of a heart at rest ; in the enjoyment of that sun- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 103 

shine of the breast, which is set forever to the restless vota- 
ries of mere amusement. 

According to the laudable custom of the country, they took 
home a child whose mother had died in giving her birth, and 
whose father was a relation of the colonel's. This child's 
name was either Schuyler or Cuyler, I do not exactly remem- 
ber which ; but I remember her many years after as Mrs. 
Vander Poolen ; when, as a comely, contented-looking ma- 
tron, she used to pay her annual visit to her beloved bene- 
factress, and send her ample presents of such rural dainties 
as her abode afforded. I have often heard her warm in her 
praises ; saying how useful, how modest, and how affection- 
ate she had been ; and exulting in her comfortable settlement, 
and the plain worth which made her a blessing to her fam- 
ily. From this time to her death, above fifty years after- 
wards, her house was never without one, but much oftener 
two children, whom this exemplary pair educated with parent- 
al solicitude and kindness. And whenever one of their pro- 
tegees married out of the family, which was generally at a 
very early age, she carried with her a female slave, born and 
baptized in the house, and brought up with a thorough know- 
ledge of her duty, and an habitual attachment to her mistress ; 
besides the usual present of the furniture of a chamber, and 
a piece of plate, such as a teapot, tankard, or some such use- 
ful matter, which was more or less valuable as the protegee 
was more or less beloved : for though aunt Schuyler had 
great satisfaction from the characters and conduct of all her 
adopted, there were, no doubt, degrees of merit among them, 
of which she was better able to judge than if she had been 
their actual mother. 

There was now an interval of peace, which gave these 
philanthropists more leisure to do good in their own way. 
They held a threefold band of kindness in their hands, by 
which they led to the desirable purpose of mutual advantage ; 
three very discordant elements, which were daily becoming 
more difficult to mingle and to rule ; and which yet were the 
more dependent on each other for mutual comfort, from the 
very causes which tended to disunite them. 

In the first place, the Indians began to assume that unfa- 
vorable and uncertain aspect, which it is the fate of man to 
wear in the first steps of his progress from that state where 



104 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

he is at once warlike and social, having few wants, and being 
able, without constant labor or division of ranks, to supply 
them ; where there is no distinction, save that attained by su- 
perior strength of mind and body ; and where there are no 
laws but those dictated by good sense, aided by experience, 
and enforced by affection. This state of life may be truly 
called the reign of the affections : the love of kindred and of 
country ruling paramount, unrivalled by other passions, all 
others being made subservient to these. Vanity, indeed, was 
in some degree flattered ; for people wore ornaments, and 
were at no small pains to make them. Pride existed ; but 
was differently modified from what we see it ; every man 
was proud of the prowess and achievements of his tribe col- 
lectively ; of his personal virtues he was not proud, because 
we excel but by comparison ; and he rarely saw instances 
of the opposite vices in his own nation, and looked on others 
with unqualified contempt. 

When any public benefit was to be obtained, or any public 
danger to be averted, their mutual efforts were all bent to one 
end ; and no one knew what it was to withhold his utmost 
aid, nor indeed could in that stage of society have any motive 
for doing so. Hence, no mind being contracted by selfish 
cares, the community were but as one large family, who en- 
joyed or suffered together. We are accustomed to talk, in 
parrot phrase, of indolent savages ; and to be sure in warm 
climates, and where the state of man is truly savage, that is 
to say, unsocial, void of virtue, and void of comforts, he is cer- 
tainly an indolent being ; but that individual, in a cold climate, 
who has tasted the sweets of social life, who knows the wants 
that arise from it, who provides for his children in their help- 
less state, and with whom taste and ingenuity are so much 
improved that his person is not only clothed with warm and 
seemly apparel, but decorated with numerous and not inele- 
gant ornaments, which, from the scarcity and simplicity of his 
tools, he has no ready nor easy mode of producing ; \^^en he 
has not only found out ail these wants, which he lias no 
means of supplying but by his individual strength, dexterity, 
and ingenuity, industry must be added, ere they can all be 
regularly gratified.' Very active and industrious, in fact, the 
Indians were in their original state ; and when we take it 
into consideration, that besides these various occupations, to- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 105 

gether with their long journeys, wars, and constant huntings 
and fishing, their leisure was occupied not only by athletic 
but studious games, at which they played for days together 
with unheard-of eagerness and perseverance, it will appear 
they had very little of that lounging-time, for which we are 
so^pt to give them credit. Or if a chief occasionally, after 
fatigue of which we can form no adequate idea, lay silent in 
the shade, those frisking Frenchmen who have given us most 
details concerning them, were too restless themselves to sub- 
due their skipping spirits to the recollection, that a Mohawk 
had no study nor arm-chair wherein to muse and cogitate, 
and that his schemes of patriotism, his plans of war, and his 
eloquent speeches, were all, like the meditations of Jacques,, 
formed " under the greenwood tree." Neither could any man 
lounge on his sofa, while half a dozen others were employed 
in shearing the sheep, preparing the wool, weaving and ma- 
king his coat, or in planting the flax for his future linen, and 
flaying the ox for his future shoes ; were he to do all this 
himself, he would have little leisure for study or repose. And 
all this and more the Indian did under other names and forms. 
So that idleness, with its gloomy followers ennui and suicide, 
were unknown among this truly active people ; yet that there 
is a higher state of society cannot be denied ; nor can it be 
denied that the intermediate state is a painful and enfeebling 
one. 

Man, in a state of nature, is taught by his more civilized 
brethren a thousand new wants before he learns to supply 
one. Thence barter takes place ; which in the first stage of 
progression is universally fatal to the liberty, the spirit, and the 
comforts of an uncivilized people. 

In the east, where the cradle of our infant nature was ap- 
pointed, the clime was genial, its productions abundant, and 
its winters only sufficient to consume the surplus, and give a 
welcome variety to the seasons. There man was either a 
shepherd or a hunter, as his disposition led ; and that perhaps 
in the same family. The meek spirit of Jacob delighted in 
tending his father's flocks ; while the more daring and adven- 
turous Esau traced the wilds of mount Seir, in pursuit both of 
the fiercer animals that waged war upon the fold, and the 
more timorous which administered to the luxury of the table. 

The progress of civilization was here gradual and gentle ; 



106 



SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



and the elegant arts seem to have gone hand in hand with the 
useful ones. We read of bracelets and ear-rings sent as to- 
kens of love, and images highly valued and coveted ; while 
even agriculture seemed in its infancy. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Progress of civilization in Europe. — Northern Nations instructed in the 
arts of life by those they had subdued. 

Population extending to the milder regions of Europe, 
brought civilization along with it ; so that it is only among 
the savages (as we call our ancestors) of the North, that we 
can trace the intermediate state I have spoken of. Among 
them, one regular gradation seems to have taken place ; they 
were first hunters, and then warriors. As they advanced in 
their knowledge of the arts of life, and acquired a little prop- 
erty, as much of pastoral pursuits as their rigorous climate 
would allow, without the aid of regular agriculture, mingled 
with their wandering habits. But, except in a few partial 
instances, from hunters they became conquerors ; the warlike 
habits acquired from that mode of life raising their minds 
above patient industry, and teaching them to despise the softer 
arts that embellish society. In fine, their usual progress to 
civilization was through the medium of conquest. The poet 
says, 

" With noble scorn the first famed Cato view'd, 
Rome learning arts from Greece, which she subdued." 

The surly censor might have spared his scorn, for, doubtless, 
science and the arts of peace were by far the most valuable 
acquisitions resulting from their conquest of that polished 
and ingenious people. But when the savage hunters of the 
north became too numerous to subsist on their deer and fish, 
and too warlike to dread the conflict with troops more regu- 
larly armed, they rushed down, like a cataract, on their en- 
feebled and voluptuous neighbors ; destroyed the monuments 
of art, and seemed for a time to change the very face of na- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 107 



ture. Yet dreadful as were the devastations of this flood, let 
forth by divine vengeance to punish and to renovate, it had 
its use, in sweeping away the hoarded mass of corruption 
with which the dregs of mankind had polluted the earth. It 
was an awful, but a needful process ; which, in some form 
or other, is always renewed when human degeneracy has 
reached its ultimatum. The destruction of these feeble be- 
ings, who, lost to every manly and virtuous sentiment, crawl 
about the rich property which they have not sense to use 
worthily, or spirit to defend manfully, may be compared to 
the effort nature makes to rid herself of the noxious brood of 
wasps and slugs cherished by successive mild winters. A 
dreadful frost comes ; man suffers, and complains ; his sub- 
ject animals suffer more, and all his works are for a time 
suspended : but this salutary infliction purifies the air, me- 
liorates the soil, and destroys millions of lurking enemies, 
which would otherwise have consumed the productions of 
the earth, and deformed the face of nature. In these barba- 
rous irruptions, the monuments of art, statues, pictures, tem- 
ples, and palaces, seem to be most lamented. From age to 
age the virtuosi of every country have re-echoed to each 
other their feeble plaints over the lost works of art ; as if 
that had been the heaviest sorrow in the general wreck ; 
and as if the powers that produced them had ceased to ex- 
ist. It is over the defaced image of the divine author, and 
not merely the mutilated resemblance of his creatures, that 
the wise and virtuous should lament ! It is the necessity 
of these dreadful inflictions for purifying a polluted world, 
that ought to affect the mind with salutary horror. We are 
told that in Rome there were as many statues as men : had 
all these lamented statues been preserved, would the world 
be much wiser or happier ? a sufficient number remain as 
models to future statuaries, and memorials of departed art 
and genius. Wealth, directed by taste and liberality, may 
be much better employed in calling forth, by due encourage- 
ment, that genius which doubtless exists among our cotem- 
poraries, than in paying exorbitantly the vender of frag- 
ments. 

" Mind, mind alone, bear witness, earth and heaven I 
The living fountains in itself contains 
Of beauteous and sublime." 



108 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

And what has mind achieved, that, in a favorable conjunc- 
ture, it may not again aspire to ? The lost arts are ever the 
theme of classical lamentation : but the great and real evil 
was the loss of the virtues which protected them ; of cour- 
age, fortitude, honor, and patriotism — in short, of the whole 
manly character. This must be allowed, after the dreadful 
tempest of subversion was over, to have been in some degree 
restored in the days of chivalry : and it is equally certain 
that the victors learned from the vanquished many of the 
arts that support life, and all those which embellish it. 
When their manners were softened by the aid of a mild and 
charitable religion, this blended people assumed that unde- 
fined power, derived from superior valor and superior wis- 
dom, which has so far exalted Europe over all the regions 
of the earth. Thus, where a bold and warlike people sub- 
due a voluptuous and effeminate one, the result is, in due 
time, an improvement of national character. The conquerors 
learn from the conquered the arts which grace and polish 
life, while valor and fortitude, energy and simplicity are gen- 
erated in the blended man, resulting from the mixture. In 
climes and circumstances similar to those of the primeval 
nations in the other hemisphere, the case has been very dif- 
ferent. There, too, the hunter, by the same gradation, be- 
came a warrior; but first allured by the friendship which' 
sought his protection ; then repelled by the art that coveted 
and encroached on his territories ; and lastly by the avarice 
which taught him new wants, and then took an undue ad- 
vantage of them ; he neither wished for our superfluities, 
nor envied our mode of life : neither did our encroachments 
much disturb him, since he receded into his trackless coverts 
as we approached from the coast. But though they scorned 
our refinements, and though our government, and all the en- 
lightened minds among us, dealt candidly and generously 
with all such as were not set on by our enemies to injure 
us, yet the blight of European vices, the mere consequence 
of private greediness and fraud, proved fatal to our very 
friends. As I formerly observed, the nature of the climate 
did not admit of the warrior's passing through the medium 
of a shepherd's life to the toils of agriculture. The climate, 
though extremely warm in summer, was so severe in winter, 
andnhat winter was so long, that it required no little labor to 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 109 

secure the food for the animals which were to be maintained ; 
and no small expense in that country to procure the imple- 
ments necessary for the purposes of agriculture. In other 
countries, when a poor man has not wherewithal to begin 
farming, he serves another ; and the reward of his toil en- 
ables him to set up for himself. No such resource was open 
to the Indians, had they even inclined to adopt our modes. 
No Indian ever served another, or received assistance from 
any one except his own family. 'Tis inconceivable, too, 
what a different kind of exertion of strength it requires to 
cultivate the ground, and to endure the fatigues of the chase, 
long journeys, &lc. To all that induces us to labor, they 
were indifl'erent. When a governor of New York was de- 
scribing to an Indian the advantages that some one would 
derive from such and such possessions : " Why," said he, 
with evident surprise, " should any man desire to possess 
more than he uses !" More appeared to his untutored sense 
an incumbrance. 

I have already observed how much happier they consid- 
ered their manner of living than ours ; yet their intercourse 
with us daily diminished their independence, their happiness, 
and even their numbers. In the new world this fatality has 
never failed to follow the introduction of European settlers ; 
who, instead of civilizing and improving, slowly consume 
and waste ; where they do not, like the Spaniards, absolutely 
destroy and exterminate the natives. The very nature of 
■ even our most friendly mode of dealing with them was per- 
nicious to their moral welfare ; which, though too late, they 
well understood, and could as well explain. Untutored man, 
in beginning to depart from that life of exigences, in which 
the superior acuteness of his senses, his ileetness and dex- 
terity in the chase, are his chief dependence, loses so much 
of all this before he can become accustomed to, or qualified 
for, our mode of procuring food by patient labor, that nothing 
can be conceived more enfeebled and forlorn than the state 
of the few detached families remaining of vanished tribes, 
who, having lost their energy, and even the wish to live in 
their own manner, were slowly and reluctantly beginning to^ 
adopt ours. It was like that suspension of life which takes 
place in the chrysalis of insects, while in their progress to- 
wards a new state of being. Alas ! the indolence with which 

10 



110 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

we reproach them, was merely the consequence of their 
commercial intercourse with us, and the fatal passion for 
strong liquors which resulted from it. As the fabled en- 
chanter, by waving his magic wand, chains up at once the 
faculties of his opponents, and renders strength and courage 
useless ; so the most wretched and sordid trader, possessed 
of this master-key to the appetites and passions of these 
hard-fated people, could disarm those he dealt with of all 
their resources, and render them dependent — nay, dependent 
on those they scorned and hated. The process was simple : 
first, the power of sending, by mimic thunder, an unseen 
death to a distant foe, which filled the softer inhabitants of 
the southern regions with so much terror, was here merely 
an object of desire and emulation ; and so eagerly did they 
adopt the use of fire-arms, that they soon became less expert 
in using their own missile weapons. They could still throw 
the tomahawk with such an unerring aim, that, though it 
went circling through the air towards its object, it never 
failed to reach it. But the arrows, on which they had for- 
merly so much depended, were now considered merely as 
the weapons of boys, and only directed against birds. 

Thus was one strong link forged in the chain of depend- 
ence ; next, liquor became a necessary, and its fatal effects 
who can detail ! But to make it still clearer, I have men- 
tioned the passion for dress, in which all the pride and van- 
ity of this people was centred. In former days this had the 
best effect, being a stimulus to industry. The provision 
requisite for making a splendid appearance at the winter 
meetings for hunting and the national congress, occupied the 
leisure hours of the whole summer. The beaver skins of 
the last year's hunting were to be accurately dressed and 
sewed together, to form that mantle which was as much val- 
ued, and as necessary to their consequence, as the pelisse 
of sables is to that of an Eastern bashaw. A deer-skin, or 
that of a bear, or beaver, had its stated price, and purchased 
from those unable to hunt, or past the age of severe toil, the 
wampum belt, the ornamented pouch, and embroidered san- 
dals, and other embellishments of their showy and fanciful 
costume. The boldest and most expert hunter had most of 
these commodities to spare, and was therefore most splen- 
didly arrayed. If he had a rival, it was he whose dexterous 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. Ill 

ingenuity in fabricating the materials of which his own dress 
was composed, enabled him to vie with the hero of the 
chase. 

Hence superior elegance in dress was not, as with us, the 
distinction of the luxurious and effeminate, but the privilege 
and reward of superior courage and industry ; and became 
an object worthy of competition. Thus employed, and thus 
adorned, the sachem or his friends found little time to in- 
dulge the indolence we have been accustomed to impute to 
them. 

Another arduous task remains uncalculated. Before they 
became dependent on us for the means of destruction, much 
time was consumed in forming their weapons ; in the con- 
struction of which no less patience and ingenuity were exer- 
cised than in that of their ornaments : and those too were 
highly embellished, and made with great labor out of flints, 
pebbles, and shells. But all this system of employment was 
soon overturned by their late acquaintance with the insidious 
arts of Europe ; to the use of whose manufactures they were 
insensibly drawn in, first by their passion for fire-arms, and 
finally, by their fatal appetite for liquor. To make this more 
clear, I shall insert a dialogue, such as, if not literally, at 
least in substance, might pass betwixt an Indian warrior and 
a trader. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

Means by which the independence of the Indians was first diminished. 

Indian. — " Brother, I am come to trade with you ; but I 
forewarn you to be more moderate in your demands than for- 
merly." 

Trader. — " Why, brother, are not my goods of equal value 
with those you had last year ?" 

Indian. — " Perhaps they may be ; but mine are more valua- 
ble because more scarce. The Great Spirit, who has withheld 
from you strength and ability to provide food and clothing for 
yourselves, has given you cunning and art to make guns and 



112 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



provide scaura ;* and by speaking smooth words to simple 
men, when they have swallowed madness, you have by little 
and little purchased their hunting-grounds, and made them 
corn lands. Thus the beavers grow more scarce, and deer 
fly farther back ; yet, after I have reserved skins for my 
mantle, and the clothing of my wife, I will exchange the rest." 

Trader. — " Be it so, brother ; I came not to wrong you, or 
take your furs against your will. It is true the beavers are 
few, and you go farther for them. Come, brother, let us deal 
fair first, and smoke friendly afterwards. Your last gun cost 
fifty beaver-skins ; you shall have this for forty ; and you 
shall give marten and raccoon skins in the same proportion for 
powder and shot." 

India?i. — " Well, brother, that is equal. Now for tw^o sil- 
ver bracelets, with long pendent ear-rings of the same, such 
as you sold to Cardarani in the sturgeon monthf last year. 
How much will you demand ?" 

Trader. — " The skins of two deer for the bracelets, and 
those of two fawns for the ear-rings." 

Indian.-^'' That is a great deal ; but wampum grows scarce, 
and silver never rusts. Here are the skins." 

Trader. — " Do you buy any more ? Here are knives, 
hatchets, and beads of all colors." ■ 

Indian. — " I will have a knife and a hatchet ; but must not 
take more : the rest of the skins will be little enough to 
clothe the women and children, and buy wampum. Your 
beads are of no vjilue ; no warrior who has slain a wolf will 
wear them.":j: 

Trader. — " Here are many things good for you, which you 
have not skins to buy ; here is a looking-glass, and here is a 
brass kettle, in which your woman may boil her maize, her 
beans, and above all her maple sugar. Here are silver 
broaches, and here are pistols for the youths." 



* Scaura is the Indian name for rum. 

t The Indians appropriate a month to catch fish or animals, which is 
at that time the predominant object of pursuit ; as the bear month, the 
beaver montli, &c. 

I Indians have a great contempt, comparatively, for the beads we send ; 
they consider them as only fit for those plebeians vi^ho cannot by their ex- 
ertions win any better. They estimate them, compared vi^ith their own 
wampum, as wo do pearls compared Vv'ith paste. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 113 

Indian. — " The skins I can spare will not purchase them." 

Trader. — " Your will determines, brother ; but next year 
you will want nothing but powder and shot, having already 
purchased your gun and ornaments. If you will purchase 
from me a blanket to wrap round you, a shirt and blue stroud 
for under garments to yourself and your woman, and the 
same for leggins, this will pass the time, and save you the 
great trouble of dressing the skins, making the thread, &c., 
for your clothing ; which will give you more fishing and 
shooting time, in the sturgeon and bear months." 

Indian. — " But the custom of my fathers !" 

Trader. — " You will not break the custom of your fathers 
by being thus clad for a single year. They did not refuse 
those things which were never offered to them." 

Indian. — " For this year, brother, I will exchange my 
skins ; in the next I shall provide apparel more befitting a 
warrior. One pack alone I will reserve to dress for a future 
occasion. The summer must not find a warrior idle." 

The terms being adjusted and the bargain concluded, the 
trader thus shows his gratitude for liberal dealing. 

Trader. — " Corlaer has forbid bringing scaura to steal 
away the wisdom of the warriors ; but we white men are 
weak and cold ; we bring kegs for ourselves, lest death arise 
from the swamps. We will not sell scaura ; but you shall 
taste some of ours in return for the venison with which you 
have feasted us." 

Indian. — " Brother, we will drink moderately." 

A bottle was then given to the warrior by way of present, 
which he was advised to keep long, but found it irresistible. 
He soon returned with the reserved pack of skins, earnestly 
urging the trader to give him beads, silver, broaches, and 
above all, scaura, to their full amount. This, with much af- 
fected reluctance at parting with the private stock, was at last 
yielded. The warriors now, after giving loose for awhile to 
frantic mirth, began the war whoop, made the woods resound 
with infuriate bowlings, and having exhausted their dear- 
bought draught, prabably determined, in contempt of that pro- 
bity which at all other times they rigidly observed, to plun- 
der the instrument of their pernicious gratification. He, well 
aware of the consequences, took care to remove himself and 
his goods to some other place ; and a renewal of the same 

10* 



114 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 

scene ensued. Where, all this time, were the women, whose 
gentle counsels might have prevented these excesses ? Alas ! 
unrestrained by- that delicacy which is certainly one of the 
best fruits of refinement, they shared in them, and sunk sooner 
under them. A long and deep sleep generally succeeded ; 
from which they awoke in a state of dejection and chagrin, 
such as no Indian had ever experienced under any other cir- 
cumstances. They felt as Milton describes Adam and Eve 
to have done after their transgression. Exhausted, and for- 
lorn, and stung with the consciousness of error and depend- 
ence, they had neither the means nor the desire of exercising 
their wonted summer occupations with spirit. Vacancy pro- 
duced languor, and languor made them again wish for the 
potion which gave temporary cheerfulness.* They carried 
their fish to the next fort or habitation to barter for rum. This 
brought on days of phrensy, succeeded by torpor. When again 
roused by want to exertion, they saw the season passing with- 
out the usual provision ; and by an effort of persevering in- 
dustry, tried to make up for past negligence ; and then, worn 
out by exertion, sunk into supine indolence till the approach 
of winter called them to hunt the bear ; and the arrival of 
that (their busy season) urged on their distant excursions in 
pursuit of deer. Then they resumed their wonted character, 
and became what they used to be ; but, conscious that ac- 
quired tastes and wants, which they had lost the habit of 
supplying themselves, would throw them again on the traders 
for clothing, &c., they were themselves outstraining every 
sinew to procure enough of peltry to answer their purpose, 
and to gratify their newly-acquired appetites. Thus the en- 
ergy, both of their characters and constitutions, was gradually 
undermined ; and their numbers as effectually diminished as 
if they had been wasted by war. 

The smallpox was also so fatal to them that whole tribes 
on the upper lakes have been entirely extinguished by it. 
Those people being in the habit of using all possible means 
of closing the pores of the skin, by painting and anointing 
themselves with bears' grease, to defend them against the ex- 
tremity of cold, to which their manner of life exposed them ; 

* From Peter Schuyler, brother to the Colonel, I have heard many 
such details. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 115 

and not being habitually subject to any cutaneous disease, the 
smallpox rarely rises upon them ; from which it may be un- 
derstood how little chance they had of recovering. All this 
I heard Aunt Schuyler relate, whose observations and reflec- 
tions I merely detail. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



Peculiar attractions of the Indian mode of life — Account of a settler who 
resided some time among them. 

In this wild liberty, in these habits of probity, mutual con- 
fidence, and constant variety, there was an un^efinable charm, 
which, while it preserved their primitive manners, wrought 
in every one who dwelt for any time among them. 

I have often heard my friend speak of an old man, who, 
being carried away in his infancy by some hostile tribe who 
had slain his parents, was rescued very soon after by a tribe 
of friendly Indians : they, from motives of humanity, resolved 
to bring him up among themselves, that he might, in their 
phrase, " learn to bend the bow, and speak truth." When 
it A^as discovered some years after that he was still living, 
his relations reclaimed him ; and the community wished him 
to return and inherit his father's lands, now become more 
considerable. The Indians were unwilling to part with their 
protege ; and he was still more reluctant to return. This 
was considered as a bad precedent ; the early settlers having 
found it convenient, in several things regarding hunting, food, 
&c., to assimilate in some degree with the Indians ; and the 
young men occasionally, at that early period, joining their 
hunting and fishing parties. It was considered as a matter 
of serious import to reclaim this young alien ; lest others 
should be lost to the community and to their reUgion by fol- 
lowing his example. With difficulty they forced him home ; 
where they never could have detained him, had they not care- 
fully and gradually inculcated into his mind the truths of ChrisT^^ 
tianity. To those instructions even his Indian predilections 



116 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

taught him to listen ; for it was the religion of his fathers, 
and venerable to him as such : still, however, his dislike of 
our manners was never entirely conquered, nor was his at- 
tachment to his foster-fathers ever much diminished. He 
was possessed of a very sound intellect, and used to declairn 
with the most vehement eloquence against our crafty and 
insiduous encroachments on our old friends. His abhorrence 
of the petty falsehoods to which custom has too well recon- 
ciled us, and of those little artifices which we all occasionally 
practise, rose to a height fully equal to that felt by Gulliver. 
Swift and this other misanthrope, though they lived at the 
same time, could not have had any intercourse, else one might 
have supposed the invectives which he has put into the mouth 
of Gulliver, were borrowed from this demi-savage ; whose 
contempt and hatred of selfishness, meanness, and duplicity, 
were expressed in language worthy of the dean. Inso- 
much, that years after I had heard of this singular character, 
I thought, on reading Gulliver's asperities after returning from 
Hoynhnhmland, that I had met my old friend again. One 
really does meet with characters that fiction would seem too 
bold in portraying. This original had an aversion to liquor, 
which amounted to abhorrence ; . being embittered by his 
regret at the mischiefs resulting from it to his old friends, 
and his rage at the traders for administering the means of 
depravity. He never could bear any seasoning to his food ; 
and despised luxury in all its forms. 

For all the growing evils I have been describing, there 
was only one remedy, which the sagacity of my friend and 
her other self soon discovered ; and which their humanity as 
well as principle led them to try all possible means of admin- 
istering. It was the pure light and genial influence of Chris- 
tianity alone that could cheer and ameliorate the state of these 
people, now, from a concurrence of circumstances scarcely 
to be avoided in the nature of things, deprived of the inde- 
pendence habitual to their own way of life, without acquiring 
in its room any of those comforts which sweeten ours. By 
gradually and gently unfolding to them the views of a happy 
futurity, and the means by which depraved humanity was 
restored to a participation of that blessing; pride, revenge, 
'*nd the indulgence of every excess of passion or appetite 
being restrained by the precepts of a religion ever powerful 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 117 

where it is sincere ; their spirits would be brought down from 
the fierce pride which despises improvement, to adopt such 
of our modes as would enable them to incorporate in time 
with our society, and procure for themselves a comfortable 
subsistence, in a country no longer adapted to supply the 
wants of the houseless rangers of the forest. 

The narrow policy of many looked coldly on this benevo- 
lent project. Hunters supplied the means of commerce, and 
warriors those of defence ; and it was questionable whether 
a Christian Indian would hunt or fight as well as formerly. 
This, however, had no power with those in whom Chris- 
tianity was any thing more than a name. There were al- 
ready many Christian Indians ; and it was very encouraging, 
that not one, once converted, had ever forsaken the strict 
profession of the religion, or ever, in a single instance, 
abandoned himself to the excesses so pernicious to the un- 
converted brethren. Never was the true spirit of Christiani- 
ty more exemplified than in those comparatively few con- 
verts ; who about this time amounted to . no more than two 
hundred. But the tender care and example of the Schuylers, 
co-operating with the incessant labors of a judicious and 
truly apostolic missionary, some years after greatly augment- 
ed their numbers in different parts of the continent ; and to 
this day, the memory of David Brainard, the faithful laborer 
alli^ded to, is held in veneration in those districts that were 
blessed with his ministry. He did not confine it to one peo- 
ple or province, but travelled from place to place, to dissemi- 
nate the gospel to new converts, and confirm and cherish the 
truth already planted. The first foundation of that church 
had, however, as I formerly mentioned, been laid long ago : 
and the examples of piety, probity, and benevolence set by 
the worthies at the Flats, and a few more, were a very neces- 
sary comment on the doctrines to which their assent was 
desired. 

The great stumbling-block which the missionaries had to 
encounter with the Indians, (who, as far as their knowledge 
went, argued with great acuteness and logical precision,) 
was the small influence which our religion seemed to have 
over many of its professors. " Why," said they, " if the book 
of truth, that shows the way to happiness, and bids all men 
do justice, and love one another, is given both to Corlaer and 



118 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

Onnonthio,* does it not direct them in the same way ? Why- 
does Onnonthio worship, and Corlaer neglect, the mother of 
the blessed one ? And why do the missionaries blame those 
for worshipping things made with hands, while the priests 
tell the praying nationf that Corlaer and his people have 
forsaken the worship of his forefathers ? besides, how can 
people, who believe that God and good spirits view and take 
an interest in all their actions, cheat and dissemble, drink 
and fight, quarrel and backbite, if they believe the great fire 
burns for those who do such things ? If we believed what you 
say, we should not exchange so much good for wickedness, 
to please an evil spirit, who would rejoice at our destruction." 

To this reasoning it was not easy to oppose any 

thing that could carry conviction to untutored people, who 
spoke from observation and the evidence of the senses ; to 
which could only be opposed scripture texts, which avail not 
till they are believed ; and abstract reasoning, extremely dif- 
ficult to bring to the level of an unlearned understanding. 
Great labor and perseverance wrought on the minds of a few, 
who felt conviction, as far as it is to be ascribed to human 
agency, flow from the affectionate persuasion of those whom 
they visibly beheld earnest for their eternal welfare ; and 
when a few had thus yielded,;}; the peace and purity of their 
lives, and the sublime enjoyment they seemed to derive from 
the prospects their faith opened into futurity, was an induce- 
ment to others to follow the same path. This, abstractedly 
from religious considerations of endless futurity, is the true 

* Corlaer was the title given by them to the governor of New York, 
and was figuratively used for the governed, and Onnonthio for those of 
Canada in the same manner. 

t Praying nation was a name given to a village of Indians near Mon- 
treal, who professed the Catholic faith. 

t Some of them have made such a proficiency in practical religion as 
ought to shame many of us, who boast the illuminating aids of our native 
Christianity. Not one of these Indians has been concerned in those bar- 
barous irruptions which deluged the frontiers of our south-western prov- 
inces with the blood of so many innocents, of every age and sex. At the 
commencement of these ravages, they flew into the settlements, and put 
themselves into the protection of government. The Indians no sooner be- 
came Christians, than they openly professed their loyalty to King George ; 
and therefore, to contribute to their conversion was as truly politic as it 
was nobly Christian. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 119 



and only way to civilization ; and to the blending together 
the old and new inhabitants of these regions. National pride, 
rooted prejudices, ferocity, and vindictive hatred, all yield 
before a change that new-moulds the whole soul, and fur- 
nishes man with new fears and hopes, and new motives for 
action. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 



Indians only to be attached by he'mg converted. — The abortive expedi- 
tion of Mons. Barre. — Ironical sketch of an Indian. 

Upon the attachment the Indians had to our religion was 
grafted the strongest regard to our government, and the great- 
est fidelity to the treaties made with us. To illustrate the 
latter, I shall insert a specimen of Indian eloquence ; not that 
I consider it by any means so rich, impressive, or sublime, 
as many others that I could quote, but as it contains a figure 
of speech rarely to be met with among savage people, and 
supposed by us incompatible with the state of intellectual ad- 
vancement to which they have attained. I mean a fine and 
well-supported irony. About the year 1686, Mons. Barre, 
the commander of the French forces in Canada, made a kind 
of inroad, with a warlike design, into the precincts claimed 
by our Mohawk allies ; the march was tedious, the French 
fell sick, and many of their Indians deserted them. The 
wily commander, finding that he was unequal to the medi- 
tated attack, and that it would be unsafe to return through the 
lakes and woods, while in hourly danger of meeting enemies 
so justly provoked, sent to invite the sachems to a friendly 
conference ; and, when they met, asserted in an artful speech 
that he and his troops had come with the sole intention of 
settling old grievances, and smoking the calumet of peace 
with them. The Indians, not imposed on by such pretences, 
listened patiently to his speech, and then made the answer 
which the reader will find in the notes.* It is to be ob- 

* " Onnonthio, I lienor yon ; and all the warriors who are with me 
likewise honor you. Your interpreter has finished his speech, I begin 



120 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



served, that whomsoever they considered the ruling person for 
tlie time being in Canada, they styled Onnonthio ; while the 
governor of New York they always called Corlaer. 

mine. My words make haste to reach your ears ; hearken to them, Yon- 
nondio. You must have believed, when you left Quebec, that the sun 
had burnt up all the forests which made our country so inaccessible to the 
French ; or that the lakes had so far overflowed their banks, that they 
had surrounded our castles, and that it was impossible for us to get out of 
them. Yes, Yonnondio, surely you have dreamed so ; and the curiosity 
of seeing so great a wonder has brought you so far. Now you are unde- 
ceived, since I and the warriors here present are come to assure you, that 
the Hurons, Onondagoes, and Mohawks, are yet alive. I thank you, in 
their name, for bringing back into their country the calumet, which your 
predecessor received from their hands. It was happy for you that you 
left under ground that murdering hatchet, which has been so often dyed 
with the blood of the French. Hear, Onnondio, I do not sleep ; I have 
my eyes open ; and the sun which enlightens me discovers to me a great 
captain, at the head of his soldiers, who speaks as if he were dreaming. 
He says that he only came to the lake to smoke out of the great calumet 
with the Five Nations ; but Connaratego says that he sees the contrary ; 
that it was to knock them on the head if sickness had not weakened the 
arms of the French. I see Onnonthio raving in a camp of sick men, 
whose lives the Great Spirit has saved by inflicting this sickness upon 
them. Hear, Onnonthio, our women had taken their clubs ; our children 
and old men had carried their bows and arrows into the heart of your 
©amp, if our warriors had not disarmed them, and kept them back, when 
your messenger came to our castles. It is done, and I have said it. Hear, 
Yonnondio, we plundered none of the French, but those who carried guns, 
powder, and ball, to the wolf and elk tribes, because those arms might have 
cost us our lives. Herein we follow the example of the Jesuits, who stave 
all the kegs of rum brought to the pasties where they are, lest the drunken 
Indians should knock them on the head. Our warriors have not beavers 
enough to pay for all those arms that they have taken ; and our old men 
are not afraid of the war. This belt preserves my words. We carried the 
English into our lakes, to trade with the wolf and elk tribes, as the pray- 
ing Indians brought the French to our castles, to carry on a trade, which 
the English say is theirs. We are born free. We neither depend upon 
Onnonthio nor Corlaer ; we may go where we please. If your allies be 
your slaves, use them as such ; command them to receive no other but 
your people. This belt preserves my words. We knocked the Connec- 
ticut Indians and their confederates on the head because they had cut 
down the trees of peace, which were the limits of our country. They 
have hunted beavers on our lands, contrary to the customs of all Indians, 
for they have left none alire. They have killed both male and female. 
They brought the Sathanas into our country to take part with them, 
after they had formed ill designs against us ; we have done less than they 
merited. 

" Hear, once more, the words of the Five Nations. They say, that 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. *121 

Twice in the year the new converts came to Albany to 
partake of the sacrament, before a place of worship was 
erected for themselves. They always spent the night, or 
oftener two nights, before their joining in this holy rite, at 
the Flats, which was their general rendezvous from different 
quarters. There they were cordially received by the three 
brothers, who always met together at this time to have a con- 
ference with them on subjects the most important to their 
present and future welfare. These devout Indians seemed 
all impressed with the same feelings, and moved by the same 
spirit. They were received with affectionate cordiality, and 
accommodated in a manner quite conformable to their habits, 
in the passage, porch, and olfices ; and so deeply impressed 

when they buried the hatchet at Cardaragni, (in the presence of your pre- 
decessor,) in the middle of tK- fort,* they planted the tree of peace in 
the same place, to be there ^-arefully preserved ; that, jnsteadof an abode 
for soldiers, that fort mighc be a rendezvous for merchants ; that, in place 
of arms and ammunition, only peltry and goods should enter there. 

" Hear Yonnondio, take care for the future that so great a number of 
soldiers as appear there do not choke the tree of peace, planted in so 
small a fort. It will be a great loss, after having so easily taken root, if 
you sliould stop its growth, and prevent its covering your country and 
ours with its branches. I assure you, in the name of the Five Nations, 
that our warriors shall dance to the calumet of peace under its leaves, and 
shall remain quiet on their mats ; and that fney shall never dig up the 
hatchet till Corlaer or Onnonthio, either jointly or separately, attack the 
^;ountry which the Great Spirit hath given to our ancestors. This belt 
preserves my words, and this other the authority which the Five Nations 
have given me." Then Garangula, addressing himself to Mons. de Maine, 
who understood his language, and interpreted, spoke thus : " Take cour- 
age, friend, you have spirits ; speak, explain my words, omit nothing. 
Tell all that your brethren and friends say to Onnonthio, your governor, by 
the mouth of Garangula, who loves you, and desires you to accept of this 
present of beaver, and take part with me in my feast, to which I uivite 
you. This present of beaver is sent to Yonnondio on the part of the Five 
Nations." 

Mons. Barre returned to his fort itiuch enraged at what he had heard. 
Garangula feasted the French officers, and then went home ; and Mons. 
Barre set out on his way towards Montreal ; and as soon as the general, 
with the few soldiers who remained in health, had embarked, the militia 
made their way to their own habitations without order or discipline. Thus 
a chargeable and fatiguing expedition, meant to strike the terror of the 
French name into the stubborn hearts of the Five Nations, ended in a 
scold between a Frencn general and an old Indian. — Colden's History 
of the Five Nations, page 68. 

* Detroit. 
11 



122 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



were they with a sense of the awful duty that brought them 
there, and of the rights of friendship and hospitality ; and at 
this period so much were they become acquainted with our 
customs, that though two hundred communicants, followed 
by many of their children, were used to assemble on those 
occasions, the smallest instance of riot or impropriety was not 
known among them. They brought little presents of game, or 
of their curious handicrafts, and were liberally and kindly en- 
tertained by their good brother Philip, as they familiarly 
called him. In the evening they all went apart to secret 
prayer ; and in the morning, by dawn of day, they assembled 
before the portico ; and their entertainers, who rose early to 
enjoy, unobserved, a view of iheir social devotion, beheld 
them with their mantles drawn over their heads, prostrate on 
the earth, offering praises and fervent supplications to their 
Maker. After some time spent in \his manner, they arose, 
and seated in a circle on the ground, vrith their heads veiled 
as formerly, they sang a hymn, which it was delightful to 
hear, from the strength, richness, and sweet accord of their 
uncommonly fine voices, which every one that ever heard 
this sacred chorus, however indifferent to the purport of it, 
praised as incomparable. The voices of the female Indians 
are particularly sweet and powerful. I have often heard my 
friend dwell with singular pleasure on the recollection of 
those scenes, and of the conversations she and the colonel 
used to hold with the Indians, whom she described as pos- 
sessed of very superior powers of understanding ; and in 
their religious views and conversations, uniting the ardor of 
proselytes with the firm decision and inflexible steadiness of 
their national character. It was on the return of those new 
Christians to the Flats, after they had thus solemnly sealed 
their profession, that these wise regulations for preserving 
peace and good-will between the settlers (now become con- 
fident and careless from their numbers) and the Indians, jeal- 
ous with reason of their ancient rites, were concluded. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 123 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Management of the Mohawks by the influence of the Christian Indians. 

The influence these converts had obtained over the minds 
of those most venerated for wisdom among their countrymen, 
was the medium through which this patriot family, in some 
degree, controlled the opinions of that community at large, 
and kept them faithful to the British interests. Every two 
or three years, there was a congress held, by deputies from 
New York, who generally spoke to the Indians by an inter- 
preter ; went through the form of delivering presents from 
their brother the great king, redressing petty grievances, 
smoking the calumet of peace, and delivering belts, the pledges 
of amity. But these were mere public forms ; the real terms 
of this often renewed amity having been previously digested 
by those who far better understood the relations subsisting 
between the contracting parties, and the causes most likely 
to interrupt their union. Colonel Schuyler, though always 
ready to serve his country in exigences, did not like to take 
upon himself any permanent responsibility, as a superintendent 
of Indian affairs, since it might have diminished that private 
influence which arose from the general veneration for his 
character, and from a conviction that the concern he took was 
voluntary and impartial ; neither did he choose to sacrifice 
that domestic peace and leisure, which he so well knew how 
to turn to the best account, being convinced that by his ex- 
ample and influence as a private gentleman, he had it in his 
power to do much good of a peculiar kind, w^hich was incom- 
patible with the weight and bustle of public affairs. These 
too would have interrupted that hospitality which, as they 
managed it, was productive of so many beneficial effects. I 
have already shown how by prudent address and kind con- 
ciliation, this patriotic pair soothed, and attached the Indians 
to the British interest. As the country grew more populous, 
and property more abundant and more secure, the face of 
society in this inland region began to change. They whose 
quiet and orderly demeanor, devotion, and integrity, did not 
much require the enforcement of laws, began to think them- 



124 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

selves above them. To a deputed authority, the source of 
which lay beyond the Atlantic, they paid little deference ; 
and from their neighbors of New Hampshire and Connecti- 
cut, who bordered on their frontiers, and served with them in 
the colonial wars, they had little to learn of loyalty or sub- 
mission. These people they held in great contempt, both as 
soldiers and statesmen ; and yet, from their frequent inter- 
course with those who talked of law and politics in their pe- 
culiar uncouth dialect incessantly, they insensibly adopted 
many of their notions. There is a certain point of stable 
happiness at which our imperfect nature merely seems to 
arrive ; for the very materials of which it is formed contain 
the seeds of its destruction. This was the case here ; that 
peaceful and desirable equality of conditions, from which so 
many comforts resulted, in process of time occasioned an 
aversion to superiors, to whom they were not accustomed, 
and an exaggerated jealousy of the power which was exer- 
cised for their own safety and comfort. Their manners un- 
sophisticated, and their morals in a great measure uncorrupted, 
led them to regard with unjustifiable scorn and aversion those 
strangers who brought with them the manners of more pol- 
ished though less pure communities. Proud of their haughty 
bluntness, which daily increased with their wealth and se- 
curity, they began to consider respectful and polite behavior 
as a degree of servility and duplicity ; hence, while they re- 
volted at the power exercised over themselves, and very re- 
luctantly made the exertions necessary for their own protec- 
tion, they showed every inclination to usurp the territories 
of their Indian allies ; and to use to the very utmost the 
power they had acquired over them by supplying their wants. 
At the liberal table of Aunt Schuyler, there were always 
intelligence, just notions, and good breeding to be met with, 
both among the owners and their guests ; many had their pre- 
judices softened down, their minds enlarged, and their man- 
ners improved. There they met British officers of rank and 
merit, and persons in authority ; and learned that the former 
were not artificial coxcombs, nor the latter petty tyrants ; as 
they would otherwise be very apt to imagine. Here they 
were accustomed to find, on the one hand, authority respect- 
ed, and on the other to see the natural rights of man vindi- 
cated, and the utmost abhorrence expressed of all the sophis- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 125 

try by which the credulous are misled by the crafty, to have 
a code of morality for their treatment of heathens, different 
from that which directed them in their dealing with Chris- 
tians. Here a selection of the best and worthiest of the dif- 
ferent characters and classes we have been describing, met ; 
and were taught, not only to tolerate, but to esteem each 
other ; and it required the calm, temperate wisdom, and easy 
versatile manners of my friend, to bring this about. It is 
when they are called to act in a new scene, and among peo- 
ple different from any they had known or imagined, that the 
folly of the wise and the weakness of the strong become dis- 
cernible. 

Many officers justly esteemed, possessed of capacity, learn- 
ing, and much knowledge, both of the usages of the world, 
and the art of war, from the want of certain habitudes, which 
nothing but experience can teach, were disqualified for the 
warfare of the woods ; and, from a secret contempt with 
which they regarded the blunt simplicity and plain appear- 
ance of the settlers, were not amenable to their advice on 
these points. They were not aware how much they were to 
depend upon them for the means af carrying on their opera- 
tions ; and by rude or negligent treatment so disgusted them, 
that the former withheld the horses, oxen, wagons, &c., 
which they were to be paid for, merely to show their inde- 
pendence ; well knowing that the dreaded and detested mili- 
tary power, even if coercive measures were resorted to, 
would have no chance for redress in their courts ; and even 
the civil authority were cautious of doing any thing so un- 
popular as to decide in favor of the military. Thus, till 
properly instructed, those bewildered strangers were apt to 
do the thing of all others that annihilates a feeble authority ; 
threaten where they could not strike, and forfeit respect 
where they could not enforce obedience. A failure of this 
kind clogged and enfeebled all their measures ; for without 
the hearty co-operation of the inhabitants in furnishing pre- 
requisites, nothing could go on in a country without roads, or 
public vehicles, for the conveyance of their warlike stores. 
Another rock they were apt to run upon was, a neglect of the 
Indians, whom they neither sufHciently feared as enemies, 
nor valued as friends, till taught to do so by maturer judg- 
ments. Of this, Braddock's defeat was an instance ; he was 

II* 



126 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



brave, experienced, and versed in all military science ; his 
confidence in which occasioned the destruction of himself 
and his army. He considered those counsels that warned 
him how little manoeuvres or numbers would avail " in the 
close prison of innumerous boughs," as the result of feeble 
caution ; and marched his army to certain ruin, in the most 
brave and scientific manner imaginable. Upon certain occa- 
sions there is no knowledge so valuable as that of our own 
ignorance. 

At the Flats, the self-righted boor learned civilization and 
subordination ; the high-bred and high-spirited field officer 
gentleness, accommodation, and respect for unpolished worth 
and untaught valor. There, too, the shrewd and deeply re- 
flecting Indian learned to respect the British character, and 
to confide in that of the settlers, by seeing the best models of 
both acting candidly towards each other, and generously to 
himself. 

My friend was most particularly calculated to be the coad- 
jutor of her excellent consort, in thus subduing the spirits of 
diff'erent classes of people, strongly disposed to entertain a re- 
pulsive dislike of each o^her ; and by leading them to the 
chastened enjoyment of the same social pleasures, under the 
auspices of those whose good-will they were all equally con- 
vinced of. She contrived to smooth down asperities, and as- 
similate those various characters, in a manner that could not 
be done by any other means. 

Accustomed from childhood, both from the general state of 
society, and the enlarged minds of her particular associates, 
to take liberal views of every thing, and to look forward on 
all occasions to consequences, she steadily followed her wise 
and benevolent purposes, without being attracted by petty 
gratifications, or repelled by petty disgusts. Neither influ- 
enced by female vanity, nor female fastidiousness, she might 
very truly say of popularity, as Falstaff" says of Worcester's 
rebellion, " it lay in her way and she found it :" for no one 
ever took less pains to obtain it ; and if the weight of solid 
usefulness and beneficence had not, as it never fails to do in 
the long run, forced approbation, her mode of conducting her- 
self, though it might greatly endear her to her particular asso- 
ciates, was not conciliating to common minds. The fact was, 
that, though her benevolence extended through the whole cir- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 127 

cle of those to whom she was known, she had too many ob- 
jects of importance in view to squander time upon imbecility 
and insignificance. Neither could she find leisure for the 
routine of ordinary visits, nor inclination for the insipidity of 
ordinary chitchat. 

If people of the description here alluded to could forward 
any plan advantageous to the public, or to any of those per- 
sons in whom she was particularly interested^ she would treat 
them occasionally with much civility : for she had all the 
power of superior intellect without the pride of it ; but could 
not submit to a perpetual sacrifice to forms and trifles. This, 
in her, was not only justifiable, but laudable ; yet it is not 
mentioned as an example, because a case can very rarely oc- 
cur, where the benefit resulting to others, from making one's 
own path, and forsaking the ordinary road, can be so essential ; 
few ever can have a sphere of action so peculiar or so impor- 
tant as hers ; and very few indeed have so sound a judgment 
to direct them in choosing, or so much fortitude to support 
them in pursuing, a way of their own. 

In ordinary matters, where neither religion nor morality is 
concerned, it is much safer to trust to the common sense of 
mankind in general, than to our own particular fancy. Sin- 
gularity of conduct or opinion is so often the result of vanity 
or afiectation, that whoever ventures upon it ought to be a per- 
son whose example is looked up to by others. A person too 
great to follow, ought to be great enough to lead. But though 
her conversation was reserved for those she preferred, her 
advice, compassion, and good ofiices, were always given 
where most needed. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Madame's adopted children. — Anecdote of sister Susan. 

Years passed away in this manner, varied only by the ex- 
tension of protection and education, to a succession of nephews 
and nieces of the colonel or Mrs. Schuyler. These they did 
not take from mere compassion, as all their relations were in 



128 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



easy circumstances ; but influenced by various considerations, 
such as, in some cases, the death of the mother of the chil- 
dren, or perhaps the father ; in others, Avhere their nieces or 
nephews married very early, and lived in the houses of their 
respective parents, while their young family increased before 
•they had a settled home ; or in instances where, from the re- 
mote situations in which the parents lived, they could not so 
easily educate them. Indeed, the difficulty of getting a suit- 
able education for children, whose parents were ambitious for 
their improvement, was great ; and a family so well regulated 
as hers, and frequented by such society, was in itself an 
academy, both for the best morals and manners. When peo- 
ple have children born to them, they must submit to the ordi- 
nary lot of humanity ; and if they have not the happiness of 
meeting with many good qualities to cultivate and rejoice ov^er, 
there is nothing left for them but to exert themselves to the 
utmost to reform and ameliorate what will admit of improve- 
ment. They must carefully weed and rear ; if the soil pro- 
duce a crop both feeble and redundant, affection will blind 
them to many defects ; imperious duty will stimulate them ; 
and hope, soothing, however deceitful, will support them. 
But when people have the privilege, as in this case, of choos- 
ing a child, they are fairly entitled to select the most promis- 
ing. This selection, I understood always to have been left 
to Aunt Schuyler ; and it appeared, by the event, to have 
been generally a happy one. Fifteen, either nephews or 
nieces, or the children of such, who had been under her care, 
all lived to grow up and go out into the world ; and all acted 
their parts so as to do credit to the instruction they had re- 
ceived, and the example they looked up to. Besides these, 
they had many whom they brought for two or three years to 
their house to reside ; either because the family they came 
from was at the time crowded with younger children, or be- 
cause they were at a time of life when a year or two spent 
in such society, as was there assembled, might not only form 
their manners, but give a bias to their future character. 

About the year 1730, they brought home a nephew of the 
colonel's, whose father, having a large family, and, to the best 
of my recollection, having lost his wife, entirely gave over 
the boy to the protection of this relation. This boy was his 
uncle's god-son, and called Philip after him. He was a great 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 129 

favorite in the family ; for, though apparently thoughtless and 
giddy, he had a very good temper, and quick parts ; and was 
upon the whole an ingenious, lively, and amusing child. He 
was a very great favorite, and continued to be so, in some 
measure, when he grew up. 

There were other children in the house at the same time, 
whose names and relationship to my friends I do not remem- 
ber ; but none stayed so long, or were so much talked of as 
this. There certainly never were people who received so 
much company, made so respectable a figure in life, and al- 
ways kept so large a family about them, with so little tumult, 
or bustle, or, indeed, at so moderate an expense. What their 
income was I cannot say, but am sure it could not have been 
what we should think adequate to the good they did, and the 
hospitality and beneficence which they practised ; for the 
rents of lands were then of so little value, that, though they 
possessed a considerable estate in another part of the country, 
only very moderate jjrofits could result from it ; but, indeed, 
from the simplicity of dress, &c., it was easier ; though in 
that respect, too, they preserved a kind of dignity, and went 
beyond others in the materials, though not the form of their 
apparel. Yet their principal expense was a most plentiful 
and well-ordered table, quite in the English style, which was 
a kind of innovation ; but so many strangers frequented the 
houses of the three brothers that it was necessary for them 
to accommodate themselves to the habits of their guests. 

Peter being in his youth an extensive trader, had spent 
much time in Canada, among the noblesse there ; and had 
served in the continental levies. He had a fine commanding 
figure, and quite the air and address of a gentleman, and v/as, 
when I knew him, an old man. 

Intelligent and pleasing in a very high degree, Jeremiah 
had too much familiar kindness to be looked up to like his 
brother. Yet he also had a very good understanding, great 
frankness and aflfability, and was described by all who knew 
him, as the very soul of cordial friendship and warm benevo- 
lence. He married a polished and well-educated person, 
whose parents (French protestants) were people of the first 
fashion in New York, and had given with her a good fortune, 
a thing very unusual in that country. They used, in the 
early years of their marriage, to pay a visit every winter to 



130 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

tlieir connections in New York, who passed part of every 
summer with them. This connection, as well as that with 
the Flats, gave an air of polish, and a tincture of elegance to 
this family beyond others ; and there were few so gay and 
social. This cheerfulness was supported by a large family, 
fourteen, I think, of very promising children. These, how- 
ever, inheriting from their mother's family a delicate constitu- 
tion, died one after another as they came to maturity : one 
only, a daughter, lived to be married ; but died after having 
had one son and one daughter. 

I saw the mother of this large family, after outliving her 
own children, and a still greater number of brothers and sis- 
ters, who had all settled in life, prosperous and flourishing, 
when she married ; I saw her a helpless bedridden invalid ; 
without any remaining tie but a sordid grasping son-in-law, 
and two grand-children, brought up at a distance from her. 

With her, too, I was a great favorite, because I listened 
with interest to her details of early happiness, and subsequent 
woes and privations ; all of which she described to me with 
great animation, and the most pathetic eloquence. How 
much a patient listener, who has sympathy and interest to 
bestow on a tale of wo, will hear ! and how affecting is the 
respect and compassion even of an artless child, to a heart 
that has felt the bitterness of neglect, and known what it was 
to pine in solitary sadness ! Many a bleak day have I walk- 
ed a mile to visit this blasted tree, which the storm of ca- 
lamity had stripped of every leaf! and surely in the house of 
sorrow the heart is made better. 

From this chronicle of past times I derived much informa- 
tion respecting our good aunt ; such as she would not have 
given me herself. The kindness of this generous sister-in- 
law was indeed the only light that shone on the declining 
days of sister Susan, as she was wont affectionately to call 
her. What a sad narrative would the detail of this poor 
woman's sorrows afford ! which, however, she did not relate 
in a querulous manner ; for her soul was subdued by afflic- 
tion, and she did not " mourn as those that have no hope." 
One instance of self-accusation I must record. She used to 
describe the family she left as being no less happy, united, 
and highly prosperous, than that into which she came : if, 
indeed, she could be said to leave it, going as she did for 

8' 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 131 

some months every year to her mother's house, whose darling 
she was, and who, being only fifteen years older than her- 
self, was more like an elder sister, united by fond affection. 

She went to New-York to lie-in, at her mother's house, of 
her four or five first children ; her mother at the same time 
having children as young as hers ; and thus, caressed at 
home by a fond husband, and received with exultation by the 
tenderest parents, — young, gay, and fortunate, her removals 
were only variations of felicity ; but, gratified in every wish, 
she knew not what sorrow was, nor how to receive the un- 
welcome stranger when it arrived. At length she went down 
to her father's, as usual, to lie-in of her fourth child, which 
died when it was eight days old. She then screamed with 
agony, and told her mother, who tried by pious counsel to 
alleviate her grief, that she was the most miserable of human 
beings ; for that no one was capable of loving their child so 
well as she did hers, and she could not think by what sin she 
had provoked this afflirtfon. Finally, she clasped the dead 
infant to her bosom, and was not, without the utmost diffi- 
culty, persuadetJ to part with it ; while her frantic grief out- 
raged all decorum. After this, said she, " I have seen my 
thirteen grown-up children, and my dear and excellent hus- 
band, all carried out of this house to the grave ; I have lost 
the worthiest and most affectionate parents, brothers and sis- 
ters, such as few ever had ; and however my heart might be 
pierced with sorrow, it was still more deeply pierced with a 
conviction of my own past impiety and ingratitude ; and under 
all this affliction I wept silently and alone, and my outcry or 
lamentation was never heard by mortal." What a lesson was 
this ! 

This once much loved and much respected woman have I 
seen sitting in her bed, where she had been long confined, 
neglected by all those whom she had known in her better 
days, excepting Aunt Schuyler, who, unwieldy and unfit for 
visiting as she was, came out two or three times in the year 
to see her, and constantly sent her kindly tokens of remem- 
brance. Had she been more careful to preserve her inde- 
pendence, and had she accommodated herself more to the 
plain manners of the people among whom she lived, she might 
in her adversity bave met with more attention ; but, too con- 
scious of her attainments, lively, regardless, and perhaps 



132 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

vain, and confident of being surrounded and admired by a 
band of kinsfolk, she Avas at no pains to conciliate others. 
She had, too, some expensive habits, which, when the tide 
of prosperity ebbed, could meet with little indulgence among 
a people who never entertained an idea of lining beyond their 
circumstances. 

Thus, even among those unpolished people, one might learn 
how severely the insolence of prosperity can be avenged on 
us, even by those we have despised and slighted, and who, 
perhaps, were very much our inferiors in every respect, — 
though both humanity and good sense should prevent our 
mortifying them by showing ourselves sensible of that cir- 
cumstance. 

1751. This year was a fatal one to the famihes of the 
three brothers. Jeremiah, impatient of the uneasiness caused 
by a Aven upon his neck, submitted to undergo an operation ; 
which, being unskilfully performed, ended fatally, to the un- 
speakable grief of his brothers, and of aunt, who was par- 
ticularly attached to him, and often dwelt on the recollection 
of his singularly compassionate disposition, the generous 
openness of his temper, and peculiar warmth oC his affec- 
tions. He, indeed, was " taken away from the evil to come •" 
for of his large family, one after the other went off, in conse- 
quence of the Aveakness of their lungs, Avhich withstood none 
of the ordinary diseases of smallpox, measles, &c. : in a 
fcAv years, there was not one remaining. 

These were melancholy inroads on the peace of her, who 
might truly be said to " watch and Aveep, and pray for all ;" 
for nothing could exceed our good aunt's care and tenderness 
for this feeble family ; who seemed floAvers which merely 
bloomed to wither in their prime ; for they were, as is often 
the case with those who inherit such disorders, beautiful, with 
quickness of comprehension, and abilities beyond their age. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 133 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Death of young Philip Schuyler. — Account of his Family, and of the 
Society at the Flats. 

Another very heavy sorrow followed the death of Jere- 
miah : Peter being the eldest brother, his son, as I formerly 
mentioned, was considered and educated as heir to the colonel. 
It was Peter's house that stood next to the colonel's ; their 
dwellings being arranged according to their ages, the youth 
was not in the least estranged from his own family (who were 
half a mile off) by his residence in his uncle's, and was pe- 
culiarly endeared to all the families (who regarded him as 
the future head of their house) by his gentle manners and 
excellent qualities. With all these' personal advantages, 
which distinguished that comely race, and which give grace 
and attraction to the unfolding blossoms of virtue, at an early 
age he was sent to a kind of college, then established in New 
Jersey ; and he was there instructed, as far as in that place 
he could be. He soon formed an attachment to a lady still 
younger than himself, but so well brought up, and so respecta- 
bly connected, that his friends were greatly pleased with the 
marriage, early as it was, and his father, with the highest 
satisfaction, received the young couple into the house. There 
they were the delight and ornament of the family, and lived 
among them as a common blessing. 

The first year of their marriage a daughter was born to 
them, whom they named Cornelia ; and the next, a son, 
whom they called Peter. The following year, which was 
the same that deprived them of their brother Jeremiah, proved 
fatal to a great many children and young people, in conse- 
quence of an endemial disease which every now and then 
used to appear in the country, and made great havoc. It was 
called the purple or spotted fever, and was probably of the 
putrid kind ; be that as it may, it proved fatal to this interest- 
ing young couple. Peter, who had lost his wife but a short 
time before, was entirely overwhelmed by this stroke : a 
hardness of hearing, which had been gradually increasing be- 
fore, deprived him of the consolations he might have derived 

12 



134 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

from society. He encouraged his second son to marry ; shut 
himself up for the most part in his own apartment ; and be- 
came, in effect, one of those lay brothers I have formerly de- 
scribed. Yet, when time had blunted the edge of this keen 
ajffliction, many years after, when we lived at the Flats, he 
used to visit us ; and though he did not hear well, he con- 
versed with great spirit, and was full of anecdote and infor- 
mation. Meanwhile, Madame did not sink under this calam- 
ity, though she felt it as much as her husband, but supported 
him ; and exerted herself to extract consolation from perform- 
ing the duties of a mother to the infant who was now become 
the representative of the family. Little Peter was according- 
ly brought home, and succeeded to all that care and affection 
of which his father had formerly been the object, while Cor- 
nelia was taken home to Jersey, to the family of her maternal 
grandfather, who was a distinguished person in that district. 
There she was exceedingly well educated, became an ele- 
gant and very pleasing young woman, and was happily and 
most respectably married before I left the country, as was her 
brother very soon after. They are still living; and Peter, ad- 
hering to what might be called, eventually, the safer side, 
during the war with the mother country, succeeded undis- 
turbed to his uncle's inheritance. 

All these new cares and sorrows did not in the least abate 
the hospitality, the popularity, or the public spirit of these 
truly great minds. Their dwelling, though in some measure 
become a house of mourning, was still the rendezvous of the 
wise and worthy, the refuge of the stranger, and an academy 
for deep and sound thinking, taste, intelligence, and moral 
beauty. There the plans for the public good were digested 
by the rulers of the prov^ince, who came, under the pretext 
of a summer excursion for mere amusement. There the 
operations of the army, and the treaties of peace or alliance 
with various nations, were arranged ; for there the legislators 
of the state, and the leaders of the war, were received, and 
mixed serious and important counsels with convivial cheer- 
fulness, and domestic ease and familiarity. 'Tis not to be 
conceived how essential a point of union, a barrier against 
license, and a focus, in which the rays of intellect and intel- 
ligence were concentrated, (such as existed in this family,) 
were to unite the jarring elements of which the community 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 135 

was composed, and to suggest to those who had power with- 
out experience, the means of mingling in due prbportions its 
various materials for the public utility. Still, though the de- 
tails of family happiness were abridged, the spirit that pro- 
duced it continued to exist, and to find new objects of inter- 
est. A mind elevated by the consciousness of its own pow- 
ers, and enlarged by the habitual exercise of them, for the 
great purpose of promoting the good of others, yields to the 
pressure of calamity, but sinks not under it ; particularly 
when habituated, like these exalted characters, to look through 
the long vista of futurity towards the final accomplishment of 
the designs of Providence. Like a diligent gardener, who, 
when his promising young plants are blasted in full strength 
and beauty, though he feels extremely for their loss, does not 
sit down in idle chagrin, but redoubles his efforts to train up 
their successors to the same degree of excellence. Consid- 
ering the large family she (Madame) always had about her, of 
which she was the guiding star as well as the informing soul, 
and the innocent cheerfulness which she encouraged and en- 
joyed ; considering, , too, the number of interesting guests 
whom she received, and that complete union of minds which 
made her enter so intimately into all the colonel's pursuits, it 
may be wondered how she found time for solid and improving 
reading ; because people whose time is so much occupied in 
!)usiness and society, are apt to relax, with amusing trifles of 
the desultory kind, when they have odd half hours to bestov/ 
on literary amusements. But her strong and indefatigable 
mind never loosened its grasp ; ever intent on the useful and 
the noble, she found little leisure for what are indeed the 
greatest objects of feeble characters. After the middle of 
life she went little out ; her household, long since arranged 
by certain general rules, went regularly on, because every 
domestic knew exactly the duties of his or her place, and 
dreaded losing it, as the greatest possible misfortune. She 
had always with her some young person, " who was unto her 
as a daughter ;" who was her Iriend and companion ; and 
bred up in such a manner as to qualify her for being such ; 
and one of whose duties it was to inspect the state of the 
household, and " report progress," with regard to the opera- 
tions going on in the various departments. For no one better 
understood, or more justly estimated, the duties of house- 



136 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



wifery. Thus those young females who had the happiness 
of being bred under her auspices, very soon became qualified 
to assist her, instead of encroaching much on her time. The 
example and conversation of the family in which they lived, 
was to them a perpetual school for useful knowledge, and 
manners easy and dignified, though natural and artless. They 
were not indeed embellished ; but then they were not de- 
formed by affectation, pretensions, or defective imitation of 
fashionable models of manners. They were not indeed bred 
up " to dance, to dress, to roll the eye, or troll the tongue ;" 
yet they were not lectured into unnatural gravity, or frozen 
reserve. I have seen those of them who were lovely, gay, 
and animated, though, in the words of an old familiar lyric, 

• 
" Without disguise or art, like flowers that grSce the wild, 
Their sweets they did impart whene'er they spoke or smiled." 

Two of those to whom this description particularly applies, 
still live ; and still retain not only evident traces of beauty, 
but that unstudied grace and dignity which is the result of 
conscious worth and honor, habituated to receive the tribute 
of general respect. This is the privilege of minds which 
are always in their own place, and neither stoop to solicit ap- 
plause from their inferiors, nor strive to rise to a fancied 
equality with those whom nature or fortune has placed be- 
yond them. 

Aunt was a great manager of her time, and always con- 
trived to create leisure hours for reading ; for that kind of 
conversation which is properly styled gossiping, she had the 
utmost contempt. Light superficial reading, such as merely 
fills a blank in time, and glides over the mind without leaving 
an impression, was little known there ; for few books crossed 
the Atlantic but such as were worth carrying so far for their 
intrinsic value. She was too much accustomed to have her 
mind occupied with objects of real weight and importance, 
to give it up to frivolous pursuits of any kind. She began 
the morning with reading the Scriptures. They always 
breakfasted early, and dined two hours later than the primi- 
tive inhabitants, who always took that meal at twelve. This 
departure from the ancient customs was necessary in this 
family, to accommodate the great numbers of British as well 
as strangers from New York, who were daily entertained at 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 137 

her liberal table. This arrangement gave her the advantage 
of a longer forenoon to dispose of. After breakfast she gave 
orders for the family details of the day, which, without a 
scrupulous attention to those minutiae which fell more proper- 
ly under the notice of her young friends, she always regula- 
ted in the most judicious manner, so as to prevent all appear- 
ance of hurry and confusion. There was such a rivalry 
among domestics, whose sole ambition was her favor, and 
who had been trained up from infancy, each to their several 
duties, that excellence in each department was the result 
both of habit and emulation ; while her young protegees- were 
early taught the value and importance of good housewifery, 
and were sedulous in their attention to little matters of deco- 
ration and elegance, which her mind was too much engrossed 
to attend to ; so that her household affairs, ever well regula- 
ted, went on in a mechanical kind of progress, that seemed 
to engage little of her attention, though her vigilant and over- 
ruling mind set every spring of action in motion. 

Having thus easily and speedily arranged the details of the 
day, she retired to read in her closet, where she generally re- 
mained till about eleven ; when, being unequal to distant walks, 
the colonel and she, and some of her elder guests, passed 
some of the hotter hours among those embowering shades of 
her garden, in which she took great pleasure. Here was 
their Lyceum ; here questions in religion and morality, too 
weighty for table-talk, were leisurely and coolly discussed ; 
and plans of policy and various utility arranged. From this 
retreat they sojourned to the portico ; and while the colonel 
either retired to write, or went to give directions to his ser- 
vants, she sat in this little tribunal, giving audience to new 
settlers, followers of the army left in hapless dependence, and 
others who wanted assistance or advice, or hoped she would 
intercede with the colonel for something more peculiarly in 
his way, he having great influence with the colonial govern- 
ment. At the usual hour her dinner-party assembled, which 
was generally a large one ; and here I must digress from the 
detail of the day to observe, that, looking up as I always did 
to Madame with admiring veneration, and having always heard 
her mentioned with unqualified applause, I look often back to 
think what defects or faults she could possibly have to rank 
with the sons and daughters of imperfection, inhabiting this 

12* 



138 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

transitory scene of existence, well knowing, from subsequent 
observation of life, that error is the unavoidable portion of hu- 
manity. Yet of this truism, to which every one will readily 
subscribe, I can recollect no proof in my friend's conduct, un- 
less the luxury of her table might be produced to confirm it. 
Yet this, after all, was but comparative luxury. There was 
more choice and selection, and perhaps more abundance at 
her table, than at those of the other primitive inhabitants, yet 
how simple were her repasts compared with those which the 
luxury of the higher ranks in this country oifer to provoke the 
sated appetite. Her dinner-party generally consisted of some 
of her intimate friends or near relations ; her adopted children, 
who were inmates for the time being ; and strangers, some- 
times invited, merely as friendless travellers, on the score of 
hospitality, but often welcomed for some time as stationary 
visitors, on account of worth or talents, that gave value to their 
society ; and, lastly, military guests, selected with some dis- 
crimination on account of the young friends, whom they wished 
not only to protect, but cultivate by an improving association. 
Conversation here was always rational, generally instructive, 
and often cheerful. The afternoon frequently brought with it 
a new set of guests. Tea was always drunk early here ; and, 
as I have formerly observed, was attended with so many 
petty luxuries of pastry, confectionary, &c., that it might well 
be accounted a meal by those whose early and frugal dinners 
had so long gone by. In Albany it was customary, after the 
heat of the day was past, for the young people to go in par- 
ties of three or four, in open carriages, to drink tea at an hour 
or two's drive from home. The receiving and entertaining 
this sort of company generally was the province of the younger 
part of the family ; and of those many came, in summer even- 
ings, to the Flats, when tea, which was very early, was over. 
The young people, and those who were older, took their dif- 
ferent walks while Madame sat in her portico, engaged in what 
might comparatively be called light reading — essays, biogra- 
phy, poetry, &c., till the younger party set out on their re- 
turn home, and her domestic friends rejoined her in her por- 
tico, where, in warm evenings, a slight repast was sometimes 
brought ; but they more frequently shared the last and most 
truly social meal within. 

Winter made little difference in her mode of occupying her 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 139 



time. She then always retired to her closet to read at stated 
periods. 

In conversation she certainly took delight, and peculiarly 
excelled ; yet did not in the least engross it, or seem to dic- 
tate. On the contrary, her thirst for knowledge was such, 
and she possessed such a peculiar talent for discovering the 
point of utility in all things, that from every one's discourse 
she extracted some information, on which the light of her 
mind was thrown in such a direction as made it turn to ac- 
count. Whenever she laid down her book she took up her 
knitting, which neither occupied her eyes nor attention, while 
it kept her fingers engaged ; thus setting an example of hum- 
ble diligence to her young protegees. In this employment 
she had a kind of tender satisfaction, as little children, reared 
in the family, were the only objects of her care in this respect. 
For those, she constantly provided a supply of hosiery till 
they were seven years old ; and, after that, transferred her 
attention to some younger favorite. In her earlier days, when 
her beloved colonel could share the gayeties of society, I have 
been told they both had a high relish for innocent mirth, and 
every species of humorous pleasantry ; but in my time there 
was a chastened gravity in his discourse, which, however, 
did not repulse innocent cheerfulness, though it dashed all 
manner of levity, and that flippancy which great familiarity 
sometimes encourages among young people who live^much 
together. Had madame, with the same good sense, the same 
high principle, and general benevolence towards young peo- 
ple, lived in society such as is to be met with in Britain, the 
principle upon which she acted would have led her to en- 
courage in such society more gayety and freedom of manners. 
As the regulated forms of life in Britain set bounds to the ease 
that accompanies good breeding, and refinement, generally 
diffused, supplies the place of native delicacy, where that is 
wanting, a certain decent freedom is both safe and allowable. 
But, amid the simplicity of primitive manners, those bounds 
are not so well defined. Under these circumstances, mirth 
is a romp, and humor a bufl?bon ; and both must be kept within 
strict limits. 



140 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Family Details. 

The hospitalities of this family were so far beyond their 
apparent income, that all strangers were astonished at them. 
To account for this, it must be observed that, in the first 
place, there was perhaps scarce an instance of a family pos- 
sessing such uncommonly well-trained, active, and dili- 
gent slaves, as that which I describe. The set that were 
staid servants when they married, had some of them died off 
by the time I knew the family ; but the principal roots from 
whence the many branches then flourishing, sprung, yet re- 
mained. These were two women, who had come originally 
from Africa while very young : they were most excellent ser- 
vants, and the mothers or grandmothers of the whole set, ex- 
cept one white-woolled negro-man ; who in my time sat by 
the chimney, and made shoes for all the rest. 

The great pride and happiness of these sable matrons 
were, to bring up their children to dexterity, diligence, and 
obedience ; Diana being determined that Maria's children 
should not excel hers in any quality, which was a recom- 
mendation to favor ; and Maria equally resolved that her 
brood, in the race of excellence, should outstrip Diana's. 
Never was a more fervent competition. That of Phillis and 
Brunetta, in the Spectator, was a trifle to it : and it was 
extremely difficult to decide on their respective merits ; for 
though Maria's son Prince cut down wood with more dex- 
terity and dispatch than any one in the province, the mighty 
Caesar, son of Diana, cut down wheat, and thrashed it, better 
than he. His sister Betty, who, to her misfortune, was a 
beauty of her kind, and possessed wit equal to her beauty, 
was the best seamstress and laundress, by far, I have ever 
known ; and the plain unpretending Rachel, sister to Prince, 
wife to Titus, alias Tyte, and head cook, dressed dinners 
that might have pleased Apicius. I record my old humble 
friends by their real names, because they allowedly stood at 
the head of their own class ; and distinction of every kind 
should be respected. Besides, when the curtain drops, or 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 141 

indeed long before it falls, 'tis perhaps, more creditable to 
have excelled in the lowest parts, than to have fallen mis- 
erably short in the higher. Of the inferior personages, in 
this dark drama I have been characterizing', it would be 
tedious to tell : suffice it, that besides filling up all the lower 
departments of the household, and cultivating to the highest 
advantage a most extensive farm, there was a thorough- 
bred carpenter and shoemaker, and a universal genius who 
made canoes, nets, and paddles ; shod horses, mended im- 
plements of husbandry, managed the fishing, in itself no 
small department, reared hemp and tobacco, and spun both ; 
made cider, and tended wild horses, as they call them ; which 
ir was his province to manage and to break. For every branch 
of the domestic economy there was a person allotted — educa- 
ted for the purpose ; and this society was kept immaculate, 
in the same way that the quakers preserve the rectitude of 
theirs ; and, indeed, in the only way that any community can 
be preserved from corruption ; when a member showed symp- 
toms of degeneracy, he was immediately expelled, or in other 
words, more suitable to this case, sold. Among the domes- 
tics, there was such a rapid increase, in consequence of their 
marrying very early, and living comfortably without care, that 
if they had not been detached off with the young people 
brought up in the house, they would have swarmed like an 
over-stocked hive. 

The prevention of crimes was so much attended to in this 
w^ell-regulated family, that there was very little punishment 
necessary ; none that I ever heard of, but such as Diana and 
Maria inflicted on their progeny, with a view to prevent the 
dreaded sentence of expulsion ; notwithstanding the petty ri- 
valry between the branches of the two original stocks. In- 
termarriages between the Montagues, and Capulets of the 
kitchen, which frequently took place, and the habit of living 
together under the same mild, though regular government, 
produced a general cordiality and affection among all the 
members of the family, who were truly ruled by the law of 
love ; and even those who occasionally differed about trifles, 
had an unconscious attachment to each other, which showed 
itself on all emergencies. Treated themselves with care 
and gentleness, they were careful and kind with regard to 
the only inferiors and dependents they had, the domestic an- 



142 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

imals. The superior personages in the family had always 
some good property to mention, or good saying to repeat, of 
those whom they cherished into attachment, and exalted into 
intelligence ; while they, in their turn, improved the sagacity 
of their subject animals, by caressing and talking to them. 
Let no one laugh at this ; for whenever man is at ease and 
unsophisticated, where his native humanity is not extinguish- 
ed by want, or chilled by oppression, it overflows to inferior 
beings ; and improves their instincts, to a degree incredible 
to those who have not witnessed it. In all mountainous 
countries, where man is more free, more genuine, and more 
divided into little societies, widely detached from others, 
and much attached to each other, this cordiality of senti- 
ment, this overflow of good-will takes place. The poet 
says — 

" Humble love, and not proud reason, 
Keeps the door of heaven." 

This question must be left for divines to determine ; but sure 
am I that humble love, and not proud reason, keeps the door 
of earthly happiness, as far as it is attainable. I am not go- 
ing, like the admirable Crichton, to make an oration in praise 
of ignorance ; but a very high degree of refinement certainly 
produces a quickness of discernment, a niggard approbation, 
and a fastidiousness of taste, that find a thousand repulsive 
and disgusting qualities mingled with those that excite our 
admiration, and would (were we less critical) produce affec- 
tion. Alas ! that the tree should so literally impart the 
knowledge of good and evil ; much evil and little good. It 
is time to return from this excursion, to the point from which 
I set out. 

The Princes and Caesars of the Flats had as much to tell 
of the sagacity and attachments of the animals, as their mis- 
tress related of their own. Numberless anecdotes, that de- 
lighted me in the last century, I would recount, but fear I 
should not find my audience of such easy belief as I was, nor 
so convinced of the integrity of my informers. One circum- 
stance I must mention, because I well know it to be true. 
The colonel had a horse which he rode occasionally, but 
which oftener travelled with Mrs. Schuyler, in an open car- 
riage. At particular times, when bringing home hay or corn, 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 148 

they yoked Wolf, for so he was called, in a wagon ; an in- 
dignity to which, for a while, he unwillingly submitted. At 
length, knowing resistance was in vain, he had recourse to 
stratagem ; and whenever he saw Tyte marshalling his cav- 
alry for service, he swam over to the island, the umbrageous 
and tangled border of which I formerly mentioned : there he 
fed with fearless impunity till he saw the boat approach ; 
whenever that happened, he plunged into the thicket, and led 
his followers such a chase, that they were glad to give up 
the pursuit. When he saw, from his retreat, that the work 
was over, and the fields bare, he very coolly returned. Be- 
ing by this time rather old, and a favorite, the colonel allowed 
him to be indulged in his dislike to drudgery. The mind 
which is at ease, neither stung by remorse, nor goaded by 
ambition or other turbulent passions, nor worn with anxiety 
for the supply of daily wants, nor sunk into languor by stupid 
idleness, forms attachments and amusements, to which those 
exalted by culture would not stoop, and those crushed by 
want and care could not rise. Of this nature was the at- 
tachment to the tame animals, which the domestics appro- 
priated to themselves, and to the little fanciful gardens where 
they raised herbs or plants of difficult culture, to sell and 
give to their friends. Each negro was indulged with his 
raccoon, his gray squirrel, or muskrat ; or perhaps his beaver, 
which he tamed and attached to himself, by daily feeding 
and caressing him in the farm-yard. One was sure about all 
such houses to find these animals, in which their masters took 
the highest pleasure. All these small features of human na- 
ture must not be despised for their minuteness. To a good 
mind they afford consolation. 

Science, directed by virtue, is a godlike enlargement of 
the powers of human nature ; and exalted rank is so neces- 
sary a finish to the fabric of society, and so invariable a re- 
sult from its regular establishment, that in respecting those 
whom the divine wisdom has set above us, we perform a duty 
such as we expect from our own inferiors ; this helps to 
support the general order of society. But so very few, in 
proportion to the whole, can be enlightened by science, or 
exalted by situation, that a good mind draws comfort from 
discovering even the petty enjoyments permitted to those in 
the state which we consider most abject and depressed. 



144 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

Resource of Madame. — Provincial Customs. 

It may appear extraordinary, with so moderate an income 
as could in those days be derived even from a considerable 
estate in that country, hovs^ madame found means to support 
that liberal hospitality which they constantly exercised. I 
know the utmost they could derive from their lands, and it 
was not much : some money they had, but nothing adequate 
to the dignity, simple as it was, of their style of living, and 
the very large family they always drew around them. But 
with regard to the plenty, one might almost call it luxury, of 
their table, it was suppUed from a variety of sources, that 
rendered it less expensive than could be imagined. Indians, 
grateful for the numerous benefits they were daily receiving 
from them, were constantly bringing the smaller game, and, 
in winter and spring, loads of venison. Little money passed 
from one hand to another in the country ; but there was con- 
stantly, as there always is in primitive abodes before the age 
of calculation begins, a kindly commerce of presents. The 
people of New York and Rhode Island, several of whom 
were wont to pass a part of the summer with the colonel's 
family, were loaded with all the productions of the farm and 
river. When they went home, they again never failed, at 
the season, to send a large supply of oysters, and all other 
shelllish, which at New York abounded ; besides great 
quantities of tropical fruit, which, from the short run between 
Jamaica and New York, were there almost as plenty and 
cheap as in their native soil. Their farm yielded them abun- 
dantly all that in general agriculture can supply ; and the 
young relatives who grew up about the house were rarely a 
day without bringing some provision from the wood or the 
stream. The negroes, whose business lay frequently in the 
woods, never willingly went there or any where else without 
a gun, and rarely came back empty-handed. Presents of 
wine, then a very usual thing to send to friends to whom you 
wished to show a mark of gratitude, came very often, possi- 
bly from the friends of the young people who were reared 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 145 

and instructed in thaf house of benediction ; as there were no 
duties paid for the entrance of any commodity there, wine, 
rum, and sugar were cheaper than can easily be imagined ; 
and in cider they abounded. 

The negroes of the three truly united brothers, not having 
home employment in winter, after preparing fuel, used to cut 
down trees and carry them to an adjoining sawmill, where, 
in a very short time, they made great quantities of planks, 
staves, &c., which is usually styled lumber, for the West In- 
dia market. And when a ship-load of their flour, lumber, and 
salted provisions was accumulated, some relative, for their 
behoof, freighted a vessel, and went out to the West Indies 
with it. In this Stygian schooner, the departure of which 
was always looked forward to with unspeakable horror, all 
the stubborn or otherwise unmanageable slaves were em- 
barked, to be sold by way of punishment. This produced 
such salutary terror, that preparing the lading of this fatal 
vessel generally operated as a temporary reform at least. 
When its cargo was discharged in the West Indies, it took in 
a lading of wine, rum, sugar, coffee, chocolate, and all other 
West India productions, paying for whatever fell short of the 
value, and returning to Albany, sold the surplus to their 
friends, after reserving to themselves a most liberal supply of 
all the articles so imported. Thus they had not only a profu- 
sion of all the requisites for good housekeeping, but had it in 
their power to do what was not unusual there in wealthy fam- 
ilies, though none carried it so far as these worthies. 

In process of time, as people multiplied, when a man 
had eight or ten children to settle in life, and these marrying 
early, and all their families increasing fast, though they al- 
ways were considered as equals, and each kept a neat house 
and decent outside, yet it might be that some of them were 
far less successful than others in their various efforts to sup- 
port their f^ilies ; but these deficiencies were supplied in a 
quiet and delicate way, by presents of every thing a family 
required, sent from all their connections and acquaintances ; 
which, where there was a continual intephange of sausages, 
pigs, roasting-pieces, Slc, from one house to another, excited 
little attention : but when aunt's West India cargo arrived, 
all the families of this description within her reach, had an 
ample boon sent them of her new supply. 

i3 



146 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

The same liberal spirit animated hef sister, a very excel- 
lent person, married to Cornelius Cuyler, then mayor of Al- 
bany ; who had been a most successful Indian trader in his 
youth, and had acquired 'large possessions, and carried on an 
extensive commercial intercourse with the traders of that day, 
bringing from Europe quantities of those goods that best suit- 
ed them, and sending back their peltry in exchange ; he was 
not only wealthy, but hospitable, intelligent, and liberal-mind- 
ed, as appeared by his attachment to the army, which was 
in those days the distinguishing feature of those who in know- 
ledge and candor were beyond others. His wife had the 
same considerate and prudent generosity which ever directed 
the humanity of her sister ; though, having a large family, 
she could not carry it to so great an extent. 

If this maternal friend of their mutual relatives could be 
said to have a preference among her own and her husband's 
relations, it was certainly to this family. The eldest son, 
Philip, who bore her husband's name, was on that and other 
accounts a particular favorite ; and was, I think, as much 
with them in childhood, as his attention to his education, 
which was certainly the best the province could afford, would 
permit. ^ 

Having become distinguished through all the northern 
provinces, the common people, and the inferior class of the 
military, had learned from the Canadians who frequented her 
house, to call aunt, Madame Schuyler; but by one or other 
of these appellations she was universally known ; and a kindly 
custom prevailed, for those who were received into any de- 
gree of intimacy in her family, to address her as their aunt, 
though not in the least related. This was done oftener to 
her than others, because she excited more respect and affec- 
tion ; but it had in some degree the sanction of custom. The 
Albanians were sure to call each other aunt or cousin, as far 
as the most strained construction would carry those relations. 
To strangers they were indeed very shy at jfirst, but extremely 
kind ; when they not only proved themselves estimable, but 
by a condescensio^to their customs and acquiring a smatter- 
ing of their languaps, ceased to be strangers, then they were 
in a manner adopted : for the first seal of cordial intimacy 
among the young people was to call each other cousin ; and 
thus, in an hour of playful or tender intimacy, I have known 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 147 

it more than once begin : " I think you like me well enough, 
and I am sure I like you very well ; come, why should not 
we be cousins ? I am sure I should like very well to be your 
cousin, for I have no cousins of my own where I can reach 
them. Well, then, you shall be my cousin for ever and ever." 
In this uncouth language, and in this artless manner, were 
these leagues of amity commenced. Such an intimacy was 
never formed unless the object of it were a kind of favorite 
with the parents, who immediately commenced uncle and 
aunt to the new cousin. This, however, was a high priv- 
ilege, only to be kept by fidelity and good conduct. If 
you exposed your new cousin's faults, or repeated her mi- 
nutest secrets, or by any breach of constancy lost favor, it 
was as bad as refusing a challenge ; you were coldly re- 
ceived everywhere, and could never regain your footing in 
society. 

Aunt's title, however, became current everywhere, and 
was most completely confirmed in the year 1750, when she 
gave with more than common solemnity a kind of annual 
feast, at which the colonel's two brothers and sisters, aunt's 
sister, Mrs. Cornelius Cuyler, and their families, with several 
other young people related to them, assembled. It was not 
given on a stated day, but at the time when most of these 
kindred could be collected. This year I have often heard 
my good friend commemorate, as that on which their family 
stock of happiness felt the first diminution. The feast was 
made, and attended by ^11 the collateral branches, consisting 
of fifty-two, who had a claim by marriage or descent, to call 
the colonel and my friend uncle and aunt, besides their pa- 
tients. Among these were reckoned three or four grandchil- 
dren of their brothers. At this grand gala there could be no 
less than sixty persons, but many of them were doomed to 
meet no more ; for the next year ^e smallpox, always pe- 
culiarly mortal here, (where it was miproperly treated in the 
old manner,) broke out with great virulence, and raged like a 
plague ; but none of those relatives whom Mrs. Schuyler 
had domesticated suffered by it ; and the skill which she had 
acquired from the communications of the military surgeons 
who were wont to frequent her house, enabled her to admin- 
ister advice and assistance, which essentially benefited many 
of the patients in whom she was particularly interested ; 



148 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

though even her influence could not prevail on people to 
have recourse to inoculation. The patriarchal feast of the 
former year, and the humane exertions of this, made the 
colonel and his consort appear so much in the light of public 
benefactors, that all the young regarded them with a kind of 
filial reverence, and the addition of uncle and aunt was be- 
come confirmed and universal, and was considered as an 
honorary distinction. The ravages which the smallpox 
made this year among their Mohawk friends, was a source 
of deep concern to these revered philanthropists ; but this 
was an evil not to be remedied by any ordinary means. 
These people, as has been already remarked, being accus- 
tomed from early childhood to anoint themselves with bear's 
grease, to repel the innumerable tribes of noxious insects in 
summer, and to exclude the extreme cold in winter, their 
pores are so completely shut up, that the smallpox does not 
rise upon them, nor have they much chance of recovery 
from any acute disease ; but, excepting the fatal infection 
already mentioned, they are not subject to any othe* than 
the rheumatism, unless in very rare instances. The ravages 
of disease this year operated on their population as a blow, 
which it never recovered ; and they considered the smallpox 
in a physical, and the use of strong liquors in a moral sense, 
as two plagues which we had introduced among them, for 
which our arts, our friendship, and even our religion, were a 
very inadequate recompense. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Followers of the Arnnk— Inconveniences resulting from such. 

To return to the legion of commissaries, &c. These em- 
ployments were at first given to very inferior people ; it was 
seen, however, that as the scale of military operations and 
erections increased, these people were enriching themselves, 
both at the expense of the king, and of the inhabitants, whom 
they frequently exasperated into insolence or resistance, and 
then used that pretext to keep in their own hands the pay- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 149 

ments to which these people were entitled. When their 
wagons and slaves were pressed into the service, it was ne- 
cessary to employ such persons from the first. The colonel 
and the mayor, and all whom they could influence, did all 
they could to alleviate «in evil that could not be prevented, 
and was daily aggravating disafl'ection. They found, as the 
importance of these offices increased, it would conduce 
more to the public good, by larger salaries to induce people 
who were gentlemen to accept them, since, having that cha- 
racter to support, and being acquainted with the people and 
their language, they knew best how to qualify and soften, 
and where to apply — so as least to injure or irritate. Some 
young men, belonging to the country, were at length pre- 
vailed on to accept two or three of these offices ; which had 
the happiest effect, in conciliating and conquering the aver- 
sion that existed against the regulars. 

Among the first of the natives who engaged in those diffi- 
cult employments, was one of aunt's adopted sons, formerly 
mentioned — Philip Schuyler of the Pasture, as he was 
called, to distinguish him from the other nephew, who, had 
he lived, would have been the colonel's heir. He appeared 
merely a careless, good-humored young man. Never was 
any one so little what he seemed, with regard to ability, ac- 
tivity, and ambition, art, enterprise, and perseverance ; all 
of which he possessed in an uncommon degree, though no 
man had less the appearance of these qualities : easy, com- 
plying, and good-humored, the conversations, full of wisdom 
and sound policy, of which he had been a seemingly in- 
attentive witness, at the Flats, only slept in his recollection, 
to wake in full force when called forth by occasion. 

A shrewd and able man, who was, I think, a brigadier in 
the service, was appointed quarter-master-general, with the 
entire superintendence of all the boats, buildings, &c., in 
New York, the Jerseys, and Canadian frontier. He had 
married, when very young, a daughter of Colonel Rensselaer. 
Having at the time no settled plan for the support of a young 
family, he felt it incumbent on him to make some unusual 
exertion for them. Colonel Schuyler and his consort not 
only advised him to accept an inferior employment in this 
business, but recommended him to the Brigadier Bradstreet, 
who had the power of disposing of such offices, at that time 



150 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

daily growing in importance. They well knew that he pos- 
sessed qualities which might not only render him a useful 
servant to the public, but clear his way to fortune and dis- 
tinction. His perfect command of temper, his acuteness, his 
dispatch in business, and, in the hdfcr of social enjoyment, 
his easy transition to all that careless frank hilarity and in- 
dolent good humor, which seems the peculiar privilege of the 
free and disencumbered mind, active and companionable, 
made him a great acquisition to any person under whom he 
might happen to be employed. This the penetration of 
Bradstreet soon discovered ; and he became not only his 
secretary and deputy, but in a short time after, his ambassa- 
dor, as one might say : for before Philip Schuyler was twen- 
ty-two, the general, as he was universally styled, sent him 
to England to negotiate some business of importance with 
the board of trade and plantations. In the meanwhile some 
other young men, natives of the country, accepted employ- 
ments in the same department, by this time greatly extended. 
Averse as the country people were to the army, they began 
to relish the advantage derived from the money which that 
body of protectors, so much feared and detested, expended 
among them. This was more considerable than might at 
first be imagined. Government allowed provisions to the 
troops serving in America ; without which they could not in- 
deed have proceeded through an uninhabited country ; where, 
even in such places as were inhabited, there were no regular 
markets, no competition for supply ; nothing but exorbitant 
prices could tempt those people who were not poor, and 
found a ready market for all their produce in the West In- 
dies. Now having a regular supply of such provisions as 
are furnished to the fleet, they had no occasion to lay out 
their money for such things, and rather purchased the prod- 
uce of the country, liquors, &c., for which the natives took 
care to make them pay very high ; an evil which the Schuy- 
lers moderated as much as possible, though they could not 
check it entirely. This provision-system was a very great, 
though necessary evil ; for it multiplied contractors, commis- 
saries, and store-keepers, without end. At a distance from 
the source of authority, abuses increase, and redress be- 
comes more difficult ; this of itself is a sufficient argument 
against the extension of dominion. Many of those new 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 151 

comers were ambiguous characters, originally from the old 
country, (as expatriated Britons fondly call their native land,) 
but little known in this, and not happy specimens of that 
they had left. These satellites of delegated power had all 
the insolence of office, and all that avidity of gain which a 
sudden rise of circumstances creates in low and unprincipled 
minds ; and they, from the nature of their employment, and 
the difficulty of getting provisions transported from place to 
place, were very frequently the medium of that intercourse 
carried on between the military and the natives ; and did not 
by any means contribute to raise the British character in 
their estimation. 

I dwell the more minutely on all these great, though neces- 
sary evils, which invariably attend an army in its progress 
through a country which is the theatre of actual war, that the 
reader may be led to set a just value on the privileges of our 
highly favored region ; which, sitting on many waters, sends 
forth her thunders through the earth ; and while the farthest 
extremes of the east and west bend to her dominion, has not 
for more than half a century heard the sound of hostility with- 
in her bounds. Many unknown persons, who were in some 
way attached to the army, and resolved to live by it in some 
shape, set up as traders ; carried stores suited to military 
consumption along with them, and finally established them- 
selves as merchants in Albany. Some of these proved worthy 
characters, however ; and intermarrying with the daughters 
of the citizens, and adopting in some degree their sober man- 
ners, became in process of time estimable members of society. 
Others, and indeed the greatest part of them, rose like ex- 
halations ; and obtaining credit by dint of address and assu- 
rance, glittered for a time ; affecting showy and expensive 
modes of living, and aping the manners of their patrons. 
These, as soon as peace diminished the military establish- 
ment, and put an end to that ferment and fluctuation, which 
the actual presence of war never fails to excite, burst like 
bubbles on the surface of the subsiding waves, and astonished 
the Albanians with the novel spectacle of bankruptcy and im- 
prisonment. All this gradually wrought a change on the face 
of society ; yet such was the disgust which the imputed li- 
centiousness, foppery, and extravagance of the officers, and 
the pretensions, unsupported by worth or knowledge, of their 



152 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

apes and followers, produced, that the young persons who 
first married those ambiguous new-comers, generally did so 
without the consent of their parents ; whose affection for their 
children, however, soon reconciled them. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Arrival of a new Regiment — Domine Freylinghausen. 

A REGIMENT camc to town about this time ; the superior 
officers of which were younger, more gay, and less amenable 
to good counsel than those who used to command the troops 
which had formerly been placed on this station. They paid 
their visits at the Flats, and were received ; but not as usual, 
cordially ; neither their manners nor morals being calcu- 
lated for that meridian. Part of the Royal Americans, or 
independent companies, had at this time possession of the 
fort ; some of these had families ; and they were in general 
persons of decent morals, and of a moderate and judicious 
way of thinking, who, though they did not court the society 
of the natives, expressed no contempt for their manners or 
opinions. The regiment I speak of, on the contrary, turned 
those plain burghers into the highest ridicule, yet used every 
artifice to get acquainted with them. They wished, in short, 
to act the part of very fine gentlemen ; and the gay and super- 
ficial in those days were but too apt to take for their model 
the fine gentlemen of the detestable old comedies, which 
good taste has now very properly exploded ; and at which, 
in every stage of society, the uncorrupted mind must have 
felt infinite disgust. Yet forms arrayed in gold and scarlet, 
and rendered more imposing by an air of command and au- 
thority, occasionally softened down into gentleness and sub- 
mission ; and by that noisy gayety which youthful inexperi- 
ence mistakes for happiness, and that flippant petulance, 
which those who knew not much of the language, and nothing 
at all of the world, mistook for wit, were very ensnaring. 
Those dangerously accomplished heroes made their appear- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 153 

ance at a time when the English language began to be more 
generally understood ; and when the pretensions of the mer- 
chants, commissaries, &c., to the stations they occupied were 
no longer dubious. Those polished strangers now began to 
make a part of general society. At this crisis it was found 
necessary to have recourse to billets. The superior officers 
had generally been received either at the Flats, or accommo- 
dated in a large house which the colonel had in town. The 
manner in which the hospitality of that family was exercised, 
the selection which they made of such as were fitted to asso- 
ciate with the young persons who dwelt under their protec- 
tion, always gave a kind of tone to society ; and held out a 
light to others. 

Madame's sister, as I before observed, was married to the 
respectable and intelligent magistrate, who administered jus- 
tice, not only to the town, but to the whole neighborhood. 
In their house also such of^ the military were received, and 
kindly entertained, as had the sanction of her sister's appro? 
bation. This judicious and equitable person, Avho, in the 
course of trading in early life upon the lakes, had undergone 
many of the hardships and even dangers, which awaited the 
military in that perilous path of duty, knew well vfhat they 
had to encounter in the defence of a surly and self-righted 
race, who were little inclined to show them common indul- 
gence, far less gratitude. He judged equitably between 
both parties ; and while with the most patriotic steadiness he 
resisted every attempt of the military to seize any thing* with 
a high hand, he set the example himself; and used every art 
of persuasion to induce his countrymen to every concession 
that could conduce to the ease and comfort of their protectors. 
So far at length he succeeded, that when the regiment to which 
I allude arrived in town, and showed in general an amiable 
and obliging disposition, they were quartered in different 
houses ; the superior officers being lodged willingly by the 
most respectable of the inhabitants, such as, not having large 
families, had room to accommodate them. The Colonel and 
Madame happened, at the time of these arrangements, to be 
at New York. 

In the mean while society began to assume a new aspect. 
Of the satellites, who on various pretexts, official and com- 
mercial, had followed the army, several had families, and 



154 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

those began to mingle more frequently with the inhabitants ; 
these were as yet too simple to detect the surreptitious tone 
of lax morals and second-hand manners which prevailed 
among many of those who had but very lately climbed up to 
the stations they held, and in whose houses the European 
modes and diversions were to be met with ; not indeed in the 
best style, yet even in that style they began to be relished by 
some young persons, with whom the power of novelty pre- 
vailed over that of habit ; and in a few rare instances, the in- 
fluence of the young drew the old into a faint consent to these 
attempted innovations ; but with many the resistance was not 
to be overcome. 

In this state of matters, one guardian genius watched over 
the community with unremitting vigilance. From the origi- 
nal settlement of the place there had been a succession of 
good quiet clergymen, who came from Holland to take the 
command of this expatriated colony. These good men found 
an easy charge among a people with whom the external duties 
of religion were settled habits, which no one thought of dis- 
pensing with ; and where the primitive state of manners, and 
the constant occupation of the mind in planting and defending 
a territoiy where every thing was, as it were, to be new-cre- 
ated, was a preservation to the morals. Religion being never 
branded with the reproach of imputed hypocrisy, n^r dark- 
ened by the frown of austere bigotry, was venerated even by 
those who were content to glide thoughtless down the stream 
of tiijie, without seriously considering whither it was con- 
veying them, till sorrow or sickness reminded them of the 
great purpose for which they were indulged with the privi- 
lege of existence. 

The Domines, as these people called their ministers, con- 
tented themselves with preaching in a sober and moderate 
strain to the people ; and, living qliietly in the retirement of 
their families, were little heard of but in the pulpit ; and they 
seemed to consider a studious privacy as one of their chief 
duties. Domine Freylinghausen, however, was not contented 
with this quietude, which he seemed to consider as tending 
to languish into indilTerence. Ardent in his disposition, elo- 
quent in his preaching, animated and zealous in his conversa- 
tion, and frank and popular in his manners, he thought it his 
duty to awaken in every breast that slumbering spirit of de- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 155 

'votion, which he considered as hilled by security, or drooping 
in the meridian of prosperity, like tender plants in the blaze 
of sunshine. These he endeavored to refresh by daily ex- 
hortations, as well as by the exercise of his public duties. 
Though rigid in some of his notions, his life was spotless, 
and his concern for his people warm and affectionate ; his 
endeavors to amend and inspire them with happier desires 
and aims were considered as the labor of love, and rewarded 
by the warmest affection, and the most profound veneration ; 
and what to him was of much more value, by a growing solici- 
tude for the attainment of that higher order of excellence 
which it was his delight to point out to them. But while he 
thus incessantly " allured to brighter worlds, and led the way," 
he might perhaps insensibly have acquired a taste for domin- 
ion, which might make him unwilling to part with any por- 
tion of that most desirable species of power, which subjects 
to us, not human actions only, but the will which directs 
them. A vulgar ambition contents itself with power to com- 
mand obedience, but the more exalted and refined ambition 
aims at a domination over mind. Hence the leaders of a 
sect, or even those who have powers to awake the dying 
embers of pious fervor, sway the hearts of their followers in a 
manner far more gratifying to them, than any enjoyment to be 
derived from temporal power. That this desire should un- 
consciously gain ground in a virtuous and ardent mind, is not 
wonderful, when one considers how the best propensities of 
the human heart are flattered, by supposing that we only sway 
the minds of others to incline them to the paths of peace and 
happiness, and derive no other advantage from this tacit 
sovereignty, than that of seeing those objects of affectionate 
solicitude grow wiser and better. 

To return to the apostolic and much beloved Freyling- 
hausen. The progress which this regiment made in the good 
graces of his flock, and the gradual assimilation to English 
manners of a very inferior standard, alarmed and grieved the 
good man not a little ; and the intelligence he received from 
some of the elders of his church, who had the honor of 
lodging the more dissipated subalterns, did not administer 
much comfort to him. By this time the Anglomania was 
beginning to spread. A sect arose among the young people, 
who seemed resolved to assume a lighter style of dress and 



156 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

manners, and to borrow their taste in those respects from 
their new friends. This bade fair soon to undo all the good 
pastor's labors. The evil was daily growing ; and what, 
alas, could Domine Freylinghausen do but preach ? This he 
did earnestly, and eren angrily, but in vain. Many were 
exasperated but none reclaimed. The good Domine, how- 
ever, had those who shared his sorrows and resentments ; 
the elder and wiser heads of families, indeed a great majority 
of the primitive inhabitants, were steadfast against innova- 
tion. The colonel of the regiment, who was a man of fash- 
ion and family, and possessed talents for both good and evil 
purposes, was young and gay, and being lodged in the house 
of a very wealthy citizen, who had before, in some degree, 
affected the newer modes of living, so captivated him with 
his good breeding and affability, that he was ready to humor 
any scheme of diversion which the colonel and his associates 
proposed. Under the auspices of this gallant commander, 
balls began to be concerted, and a degree of flutter and fri- 
volily to take place, Avhich was as far from elegance as it was 
from the honest, artless cheerfulness of the meetings usual 
among them. The good Domine, more and more alarmed, 
not content with preaching, now began to prophesy ; but like 
Cassandra, or, to speak more justly, though less poetically, 
like his whole fraternity, he was doomed always to deliver 
true predictions to those who never heeded them. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

IJays acted. — Displeasure of the Domine. 

Now the very ultimatum of degeneracy, in the opinion of 
these simple good people, was approaching ; for now the 
officers, encouraged by the success of all their projects for 
amusement, resolved to new-fashion and enlighten those amia- 
ble novices whom their former schemes had attracted within 
the sphere of their influence ; and, for this purpose, a private 
theatre was fitted up, and preparations made for acting a play. 
Except the Schuylers and their adopted family, there was 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 157 

not perhaps one of the natives who understood what was 
meant by a play. And by this time, the town, — once so 
closely united by intermarriages and numberless other ties, 
which could not exist in any other state of society — was di- 
vided into two factions ; one consisting almost entirely of 
such of the younger class as, having a smattering of New 
York education, and a little more of dress and vivacity, or 
perhaps levity, than the rest, were eager to mingle in the 
society, and to adopt the manners of those strangers. It is 
but just, however, to add, that only a few of the more estima- 
ble were included in this number ; these, however they might 
have been captivated with novelty and plausibility, were too 
much attached to their older relations to give them pain, by 
an intimacy with people to whom an impious neglect of duties 
the most sacred was generally imputed, and whose manner 
of treating their inferiors, at that distance from the control of 
higher powers, was often such as to justify the imputation of 
cruelty, which the severity of military punishments had given 
rise to. The play, however, was acted in a barn, and pretty 
well attended, notwithstanding the good Domine's earnest 
charges to the contrary. It was the Beaux Stratagem ; no 
favorable specimen of the delicacy or morality of the British 
theatre ; and as for the wit it contains, very little of that was 
level to the comprehension of the novices who were there 
first initiated into a knowledge of the magic of the scene ; 
yet they "laughed consumedly," as Scrub says, and actually 
did so " because they were talking of him." They laughed 
at Scrub's gestures and appearance ; and they laughed very 
heartily at seeing the gay young ensigns, whom they had 
been used to dance with, flirting fans, displaying great hoops, 
and, with painted cheeks and colored eyebrows, sailing 
about in female habiliments. This was a jest palpable and 
level to every understanding ; and it was not only an excel- 
lent good one, but lasted a long while ; for every time they 
looked at them when restored to their own habits, they laugh- 
ed anew at the recollection of their late masquerade. " It is 
much," says Falstaff, " that a lie with a grave face, and a jest 
with a sad brow, will do with a fellow who never had the ache 
in his shoulders." One need only look back to the first rude 
efibrts at comic humor which delighted our fathers, to know 
what gross and feeble jests amuse the mind, as yet a stranger 

14 



158 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

to refinement. The loud and artless mirth so easily excited 
in a good-humored child, the ndiveti of its odd questions and 
ignorant wonder, which delight us^ while associated with inno- 
cence and simplicity, would provoke the utmost disgust if we 
met with them where we look for intelligence and decorous 
observances. The simplicity of primitive manners, in what 
regards the petty amusements and minute attentions to which 
we have been accustomed, is exactly tantamount to that of 
childhood : it is a thing which, in our state of society, we 
have no idea of. Those who are from their depressed situa- 
tion ignorant of the forms of polished life, know, at least, that 
such exist ; and either awkwardly imitate them, or carefully 
avoid committing themselves by betraying their ignorance. 
Here, while this simplicity, (which, by the by, was no more 
vulgar than that of Shakspeare's Miranda,) with its con- 
comitant purity, continued unbroken by foreign modes, it had 
all the charm, of undesigning childhood ; but when half-edu- 
cation and ill-supported pretensions took place of this sweet 
attraction, it assumed a very different aspect ; it was no longer 
simplicity, but vulgarity. There are things that every one 
feels and no one can describe ; and this is one of them. 

But to return to our Mirandas and their theatrical heroes. 
The fame of their exhibitions went abroad, and opinions were 
formed of them no way favorable to the actors or to the audi- 
ence. In this region of reality, where rigid truth was always 
undisguised, they had not learned to distinguish between 
fiction and falsehood. It was said that the officers, familiar 
with every vice and every disguise, had not only spent a 
whole night in telling lies in a counterfeited place, the reality 
of which had never existed, but that they were themselves a 
lie, and had degraded manhood, and broken through an ex- 
press prohibition in Scripture, by assuming female habits ; 
that they had not only told lies, but cursed and swore the 
whole night, and assumed the characters of knaves, foals, and 
robbers, which every good and wise man held in detestation, 
and no one would put on unless they felt themselves easy in 
them. Painting their faces, of all other things, seemed most 
to violate the Albanian ideas of decorum, and was looked 
upon as a most flagrant abomination. Great and loud was 
the outcry produced by it. Little skilled in sophistry, and 
strangers to all the arts " that make the worse appear the 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 159 

better reason," the young auditors could only say " that in- 
deed it was very amusing, made them laugh heartily, and did 
harm to nobody." 

So harmless, indeed, and agreeable did this entertainment 
appear to the new converts to fashion, that the Recruiting Offi- 
cer was given out for another night, to the great annoyance 
of Mr. Freylinghausen, who invoked heaven and earth to wit- 
ness and avenge this contempt, not only of his authority, but, 
as he expressed it, of the source from whence it was derived. 
Such had been the sanctity of this good man's life, and the 
laborious diligence and awful earnestness with which he in- 
culcated the doctrines he taught, that they had produced a 
correspondent effect, for the most part, on the lives of his 
hearers, and led them to regard him as the next thing to an 
evangelist : accustomed to success in all his undertakings, 
and to " honor, love, obedience, troops of friends," and all that 
gratitude and veneration can offer to its most distinguished 
object, this rebellion against his authority, and contempt of 
his opinion, (once the standard by which every one's judg- 
ment was regulated,) wounded him very deeply. The abhor- 
rence with which he inspired the parents of the transgressors, 
among whom were many young men of spirit and intelligence, 
was the occasion of some family disagreements, a thing for- 
merly scarcely known. Those young people, accustomed to 
regard their parents with implicit reverence, were unwilling 
to impute to them unqualified harshness, and therefore re- 
moved the blame of a conduct so unusual to their spiritual 
guide ; " and while he thought, good easy man, full surely 
his greatness was a ripening, nipt his root." Early one 
Monday morning, after the Domine had, on the preceding day, 
been peculiarly eloquent on the subject of theatrical amuse- 
ments and pernicious innovations, some unknown person left 
within his door a club, a pair of old shoes, a crust of black 
bread, and a dollar. The worthy pastor was puzzled to think 
what this could mean ; but had it too soon explained to him. 
It was an emblematic message, to signify the desire entertain- 
ed of his departure. The stick was to push him away, the 
shoes to wear on the road, and the bread and money a provi- 
sion for his journey. These symbols appear, in former days, 
to have been more commonly used, and better understood than 
at present ; for instance, we find that when Robert Bruce, af- 



160 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

terwards king of Scotland, was in a kind of honorable cap- 
tivity at the court of England ; when his friend, the earl of 
Gloucester, discovered that it was the intention of the king to 
imprison him in the tower, lest he should escape to Scotland 
and assert his rights, unwilling by word or writing to discover 
what had passed in council, and at the same time desirous to 
save his friend, he sent him a pair of gilt spurs and twelve 
crowns, and ordered the servant to carry them to him as re- 
turning what he had formerly borrowed from him. The mys- 
terious gift and message v/ere immediately understood ; and 
proved the means of restoring Bruce, and, with him, the laws 
and liberty of his native kingdom. Very different, however, 
was the effect produced by this mal-a-propos symbol of dis- 
like. Too conscious, and too fond of popularity, the pastor 
languished under a sense of imaginary degradation, grew 
jealous, and thought every one alienated from him, because a 
few giddy young people were stimulated by momentary re- 
sentments to express disapprobation in this vague and dubious 
manner. Thus, insensibly, do vanity and self-opinion mingle 
with our highest duties. Had the Domine, satisfied with the 
testimony of a good conscience, gone on in the exercise of 
his duty, and been above allowing little personal resentments 
to mingle with hiti zeal for what he thought right, he might 
have felt himself far above an insult of this kind ; but he 
found, to his cost, that " a habitation giddy and unsure hath 
he, that buildeth on the fickle heart" of the unsteady, waver- 
ing multitude. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 



Retvirn of Madame. — The Domine leaves his people. — Fulfilment of his 
predictions. 

Madame now returned to town with the colonel ; and find- 
ing this general disorder and division of sentiments with re- 
gard to the pastor, as well as to the adoption of new modes, 
endeavored, with her usual good sense, to moderate and to 
heal. She was always of opinion that the increase of wealth 
should be accompanied with a proportionate progress in re- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 161 

finement and intelligence ; but she had a particular dislike to 
people's forsaking a respectable plainness of dress and man- 
ners for mere imperfect imitation, and inelegant finery. She 
knew too well the progress of society to expect, that, as it 
grew wealthy and numerous, it would retain its pristine purity ; 
but then she preferred a " gradual abolition" of old habits, that 
people, as they receded from their original modes of think- 
ing and living, might rather become simply elegant, than 
tawdrily fine ; and though she all along wished, in every pos- 
sible way, to promote the comfort of the brave- men to whom 
the country owed so much, she by no means thought an indis- 
criminate admission of those strangers among the youth of 
the place, so unpractised in the ways of the world, an ad- 
visable measure : she was particularly displeased with the 
person in whose house the colonel of the regiment lodged, for 
so entirely domesticating a showy stranger, of whose real 
character he knew so little. Liberal and judicious in her 
views, she did not altogether approve the austerity of the 
Domine's opinions, nor the vehemence of his language ; and, 
as a Christian, she still less approved his dejection and con- 
cern at the neglect or rudeness of a few thoughtless young 
persons. In vain the colonel and Madame soothed and cheer- 
ed him, with counsel and with kindness ; night and day he 
mused on the imagined insult ; nor could the joint efforts of 
the most respectable inhabitants prevent his heart from being 
corroded with the sense of imagined unkindness. At length 
he took the resolution of leaving those people so dear to him, 
to visit his friends in Holland, promising to return in a short 
time, whenever his health was restored, and his spirits were 
more composed. A Dutch ship happened about this time to 
touch at New York, on board of which the Domine embarked ; 
but as the vessel, belonging to Holland, was not expected to 
return, and he did not, as he had promised, either write or 
return in an English ship, his congregation remained for a 
long time unsupplied, while his silence gave room for the 
most anxious and painful conjectures ; these were not soon 
removed, for the intercourse with Holland was not frequent 
or direct. At length, however, the sad reality was but too 
well ascertained. This victim of lost popularity had appear- 
ed silent and melancholy to his shipmates, and walked con- 
stantly on deck. At length he suddenly disappeared, leaving 

11* 



162 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

it doubtful whether he had fallen overboard by accident, or 
was prompted by despair to plunge into eternity. If this lat- 
ter was the case, it must have been the consequence of a 
temporary fit of insanity ; for no man had led a more spotless 
life, and no man was more beloved by all that were intimately 
known to him. He was, indeed, before the fatal affront 
which made such an undue impression on him, considered as 
a blessing to the place ; and his memory was so beloved, and 
his fate so regretted, that this, in addition to some other occur- 
rences about the same time, entirely turned the tide of opinion, 
and rendered the thinking, as well as the violent party, more 
averse to innovations than ever. 

Had the Albanians been Catholics, they would probably 
have canonized Mr. Freylinghausen, whom they considered 
as a martyr to levity and innovation. He prophesied a great 
deal ; such prophecy as ardent and comprehensive minds 
have delivered, without any other inspiration but that of the 
sound, strong intellect, which augurs the future from a com-; 
parison with the past, and a rational deduction of probable 
consequences. The afiection that was entertained for his 
memory induced people to listen to the most romantic stories 
of his being landed on an island, and becoming a hermit, his 
being taken up into a ship when floating on the sea, into 
which he had accidentally fallen, and carried to some remote 
country, from which he was expected to return, fraught with 
experience and faith. I remember some of my earliest reve- 
ries to have been occupied by the mysterious disappearance 
of this hard-fated pastor. 

Meanwhile new events were unfolding more fully to the 
Albanians the characters of their lately-acquired friends. 
Scandal of fifty years standing must, by this time, have be- 
come almost pointless. The house where the young colonel, 
formerly mentioned, was billeted, and made his quarters good 
by every art of seductive courtesy, was occupied by a person 
wealthy, and somewhat vain and shallow, who had an only 
daughter ; I am not certain, but I think she was his only 
child. She was young, lively, bold, conceited, and exceed- 
ingly well-looking. Artless and fearless of consequences, 
this thoughtless creature saw every day a person who was, 
no doubt, as much pleased with her as one could be with 
mere youth, beauty, and kindness, animated by vivacity, and 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 163 

distinguished from her companions by all the embellishments 
which wealth could procure in that unfashioned quarter ; his 
heart, however, was safe, as will appear from the sequel. 
Madame foresaw the consequences likely to result from an 
intimacy daily growing, where there was little prudence on 
the one side, and as little of that honor which should respect 
unsuspecting innocence on the other. She warned the fami- 
ly, but in vain ; they considered marriage as the worst con- 
sequence that could ensue ; and this they could not easily 
have been reconciled to, notwithstanding the family and for- 
tune of the lover, had not his address and attentions charmed 
them into a kind of tacit acquiescence ; for, as a Roman citi- 
zen in the proud days of the republic would have refused his 
daughter to a king, an Albanian, at one period, would rather 
have his daughter married to the meanest of his fellow-citi- 
zens, than to a person of the highest rank in the army ; be- 
cause they thought a young person, by such a marriage, was 
not only forever alienated from her family, but from those 
pure morals and plain manners in which they considered the 
greatest possible happiness to exist. To return ; — 

While these gayeties were going on, and the unhappy Do- 
mine embarking on the voyage which terminated his career, 
an order came for the colonel to march : this was the only 
commander who had ever been in town who had not spent 
any time, or asked any counsel, at the Flats. Meanwhile liis 
Calista (for such she was) tore her hair in frantic agonies at 
his departure ; not that she in the least doubted of his return- 
ing soon to give a public sanction to their union, but lest he 
should prove a victim to the war then existing ; and because, 
being very impetuous, and unaccustomed to control, the 
object of her wishes had been delayed to a future period. In 
a short time things began to assume a more serious aspect ; 
and her father came one day posting to the Flats, on his way 
to the lakes, seeking counsel too late, and requesting the aid 
of their influence to bring about a marriage, which should 
cover the disgrace of his family. They had little hopes of 
his success, yet he proceeded ; and finding the colonel deaf 
to all his arguments; he had recourse to entreaty, and finally 
offered to divest himself of all but a mere subsistence, and 
give him such a fortune as was never heard of in that country. 
This, with an angel, as the fond father thought her, appeared 



164 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

irresistible ; but no ! heir to a considerable fortune in his 
own country, and perhaps inwardly despising a romp, whom 
he had not considered from the first as estimable, he was not 
to be soothed or bribed into compliance. The dejected father 
returned disconsolate ; and the astonishment and horror this 
altogether novel occurrence occasioned in the town, was not 
to be described. Of such a circumstance there was no ex- 
isting precedent ; half the city were related to the fair culprit, 
for penitent she could hardly be called. This unexpected 
refusal threw the whole city into consternation. One would 
have thought there had been an earthquake ; and all the in- 
sulted Domine's predictions rose to remembrance, armed with 
avenging terrors. 

Many other things occurred to justify the Domine's caution, 
and the extreme reluctance which the elders of the land 
showed to all such .associations. All this Madame greatly 
lamented, yet could not acquit the parties concerned, whose 
duty it was, either to keep their daughters from that society 
for which their undisguised simplicity of heart unfitted them, 
or to give them that culture and usage of life which enables 
a young person to maintain a certain dignity, and to revolt at 
the first trespass on decorum. Her own protegees were in- 
stances of this ; having their minds early stored with senti- 
ments such as would enable them truly to estimate their own 
value, and judge of the characters and pretensions of those 
who conversed with them, they all conducted themselves with 
the utmost propriety, though daily mixing with strangers, and 
were solicited in marriage by the first people in the province, 
who thought themselves happy to select companions from 
such a school of intelligence and politeness, where they found 
beauty of the first order, informed by mind, and graced by the 
most pleasing manners. 



CHAPTER XXXVH. 

Death of Colonel Schuyler. 



This year (1757) was marked by an event, that not only 
clouded the future life of Madame, but occasioned the deepest 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 165 

concern to the whole province. Colonel Schuyler was scarce- 
ly sensible of the decline of life, except by some attacks of 
the rheumatism, to which the people of that country are 
peculiarly subject : he enjoyed sound health and equal spirits, 
and had, upon the whole, from the temperance of his habits, 
and the singular equanimity of his mind, a more likely pros- 
pect of prolonging his happy and useful life, than falls to the 
lot of most people. He had, however, in very cold weather, 
gone to town to visit a relation, then ill of a pleurisy ; and 
having sat awhile by the invalid, and conversed with him 
both on his worldly and spiritual affairs, he returned very 
thoughtful. On rising the next morning, he began the day, 
as had for many years been his custom, with singing some 
verses of a psalm in his closet. Madame observed that he 
was interrupted by a most violent fit of sneezing ; this re- 
turned again a little after, when he calmly told her, that he 
felt the symptoms of a pleuritic attack, which had begun in 
the same manner with that of his friend ; that the event might 
possibly prove fatal ; but that knowing as she did how long 
a period* of more than common felicity had been granted to 
their mutual affection, and with what tranquillity he was en- 
abled to look forward to that event which is common to all, 
and which would be earnestly desired if withheld ; he ex- 
pected of her that, whatever might happen, she would look 
back with gratitude, and forward with hope ; and in the mean 
time honor his memory, and her own profession of faith, by 
continuing to live in the manner they had hitherto done, that 
he might have the comfort of thinking that his house might 
still be an asylum of the helpless and the stranger, and a de- 
sirable place of meeting to his most valued friends : this was 
spoken with an unaltered countenance, and in a calm and 
even tone. Madame, however, was alarmed ; friends from 
all quarters poured in, with the most anxious concern for the 
event. By this time there was a hospital built at Albany 
for the troops, with a regular medical establishment. No 
human aid was wanting, and the composure of Madame 
astonished every one. This, however, was founded on hope ; 
for she never could let herself imagine the danger serious, 
being flattered both by the medical attendants, and the sin- 

* Forty years. 



166 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 

gular fortitude of the patient. He, however, continued to 
arrange all things for the change he expected : he left his 
houses in town and country, his plate, and in short all his 
effects, to his wife, at her sole disposal ; his estates were 
finally left to the orphan son of his nephew, then a child in. 
the family ; but Madame was to enjoy the rents during her 
life. 

His negroes, for whom he had a great affection, were ad- 
mitted every day to visit him ; and with all the ardor of at- 
tachment peculiar to that kind-hearted race, implored heaven 
day and night for his recovery. The day before his death, 
he had them all called round his bed, and in their presence 
besought of Madame that she would upon no account sell any 
of them ; this request he would not have made could he have 
foreseen the consequences. On the fifth day of his illness, 
he quietly breathed his last ; having expressed, while he was 
able to articulate, the most perfect confidence in the mercy 
of the God whom he had diligently served and entirely 
trusted; and the most tender attachment to the friends he 
was about to leave. 

It would be a vain attempt to describe the sorrow of a fam- 
ily like his, who had all been accustomed from childhood to 
look up to him as the first of mankind, and the medium 
through which they received every earthly blessing ; while 
the serenity of his wisdom, the sweet and gentle cast of his 
heartfelt piety, and the equal mildness of his temper, ren- 
dered him incapable of embittering obligations ; so that his 
generous humanity and liberal hospitality were adorned by 
all the graces that courtesy could add to kindness. The 
public voice was loud in its plaudits and lamentations. In 
the various characters of a patriot, a hero, and a saint, he 
was dear to all the friends of valor, humanity, and public 
spirit ; while his fervent loyalty, and unvaried attachment to 
the king, and the laws of that country by which his own was 
protected, endeared him to all the servants of government, 
who knew they never should meet with another equally able, 
or equally disposed to smooth their way in the paths of duty 
assigned to them. 

To government this loss would have been irreparable, had 
not two singular and highly meritorious characters a little 
before this time made their appearance, and by superiority of 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 167 

merit and abilities, joined with integrity seldom to be met 
with anywhere, in some degree supplied the loss to the pub- 
lic. One of these was Sir William Johnson, the Indian su- 
perintendent, formerly mentioned; the other was Cadwallader 
Golden, for a very long period of years lieutenant-governor 
(indeed virtually governor) of New York, who, in point of 
political sagacity, and thorough knowledge of those he gov- 
erned, was fully capable to supply that place. This shrewd 
and able ruler, whose origin I believe was not very easily 
traced, was said to be a Scotchman, and had raised himself 
solely by his merit to the station he held. In this he main- 
tained himself by indefatigable diligence, rigid justice, and 
the most perfect impartiality. He neither sought to be feared 
nor loved, but merely to be esteemed and trusted, and thus 
fixed his power on the broad foundation of public utility. 
Successive governors, little acquainted with the country, and 
equally strangers to business, found it convenient to leave the 
management with him, who confessedly understood it better 
than any one else, and who had no friends but a few per- 
sonal ones, and no enemies but a few public ones, who en- 
vied his station. It was very extraordinary to see a man 
rule so long and so steadily, where he was merely and coldly 
esteemed. With so few of the advantages that generally 
procure success in the world, without birth or alliance, he 
had not even the recommendation of a pleasing appearance, 
or insinuating address. He was diminutive, and somewhat 
more than high-shouldered ; the contrast between the wealth 
of his mind, and the poverty of his outward appearance, might 
remind one of iEsop, or rather of the faithful, though ill- 
shaped herald of Ulysses : 

" Eurj'butes, in whose large mind alone, 
Ulysses view'd the image of his own." 

Thus it was with Golden. Among the number of governors 
who succeeded each other in his time, if by chance one hap- 
pened to be a man of ability, he estimated ^s merit at its 
just rate ; and whatever original measure he might find it 
necessary to take for the public good, he left the common 
routine of business in the hands of that tried integrity and 
experience in which he found them ; satisfied with the state 
and the popularity of governor, on Avhich the other had not a 



168 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

wish to encroach. Golden, however, enriched his own fam- 
ily, in a manner, on the whole, not objectionable. He pro- 
cured from the successive governors various grants of land, 
which, though valuable in quality, were not, from the re- 
moteness of their situation, an object of desire to settlers ; 
and purchased grants from many who had obtained the prop- 
erty of them, among which were difierent governors and 
military commanders. He allowed this mine of future wealth 
to lie quietly ripening to its value, till the lands near it were, 
in process of time, settled, and it became a desirable object 
to purchase or hold on lease. 



CHAPTER XXXVHI. 

Mrs. Schuyler's arrangements and conduct after the Colonel's death. 

The mind of our good aunt, which had never before yielded 
to calamity, seemed altogether subdued by the painful sepa- 
ration from her husband. Never having left her consort's 
bedside, nor known the refreshment of a quiet sleep during 
his illness, she sunk at first into a kind of torpor, which her 
friends willingly mistook for the effects of resignation. This 
was soon succeeded by the most acute sorrow, and a danger- 
ous illness, the consequence of her mental suffering. In 
spring she slowly recovered, and endeavored to find consola- 
tion in returning to the regulations of her family, and the 
society of her friends, for both which she had been for some 
months disqualified. Her nieces, the Miss Cuylers, were a 
great comfort to her, from their affectionate attention, and the 
pleasure she took in seeing them growing up to be all that 
her maternal affection could wish. In the social grief of 
Pedrom,* who^ave all his time to her during the early part 
of her widowhood, she also found consolation ; and when- 
ever she was able to receive them, her friends came from all 
quarters to express their sympathy and their respect. The 

* The coloiiers brother Peter, so called. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 169 

colonel's heir, and her own eldest nephew, made, with one 
of her nieces, a part of her family ; and the necessity of 
attending to such affairs as formerly lay within the colonel's 
province, served further to occupy her mind; yet her thoughts 
continually recurred to that loss, which she daily felt more 
and more. She had buried the colonel in a spot within a 
short distance of his own house, in which he had formerly 
desired to repose, that his remains might not quit a scene so 
dear to him ; and that the place rendered sacred by his ashes 
might in future be a common sepulture to his family ; that he . 
might in death, as in life, be surrounded by the objects of his 
affection and beneficence. This consecrated spot, about the size 
of a small flower-garden, was enclosed for this purpose, and a 
tombstone, with a suitable inscription, erected over the grave, 
where this excellent person's relict proposed her ashes should 
mingle Avith his. In the mean time, though by continually 
speaking of her deceased friend, she passed the day without 
much visible agitation, she had fallen into a habit of watch- 
fulness, rarely sleeping till morning, and suffering through 
the silent hours from a periodical agony, for such it might be 
called, with which she was regularly visited. She had a 
confidant in this secret suffering ; a decent and pious wo- 
man, who, on the death of her husband, a sergeant in the 
army, had been received into this family as a kind of upper 
domestic, and found herself so happy, and made herself so 
useful in teaching reading and needlework to the children, 
that she still remained. This good woman slept in aunt's 
room ; and when all the family were at rest, she used to ac- 
company her to a small distance from the tomb which con- 
tained those remains so dear to her. Madame, in the mean 
time, entered alone into the haMfcwed enclosure, and there 
indulged her unavailing sorrow. This she continued to do 
for some time, as she. thought, unobserved; but being very 
tall, and having become large as she advanced in life, her 
figure, arrayed in her night-clothes, was very conspicuous, 
and was, on different occasions, observed by neighbors, who 
occasionally passed by at night ; the consequence was, that 
it was rumored that an apparition was seen every night near 
the colonel's grave. This came to the ears of the people of 
the house, some of whom had the curiosity to watch at a dis- 
tance, and saw the dreaded form appear, and, as they thought, 

15 



170 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



vanish. This they carefully concealed from their reverend 
patroness. Every one else in the house, however, heard it ; 
and a pensive air of awe and mystery overspread the whole 
family. Her confidant, however, told her of it ; and the 
consequence of this improper indulgence of sorrow greatly 
increased the dislike which Madame had always expressed 
for mystery and concealment. She was unwilUng to let a 
family, to whom she had always set such an example of self- 
command, know of ^er indulging a weakness so unsuitable 
to her character and time of life. At the same time, how- 
ever, she was resolved not to allow the belief of a supernatu- 
ral appearance to faste.n on their minds : unwilling to mention 
the subject herself, she was forced to submit to the humilia- 
tion of having it revealed by her confidant, to quiet the 
minds of her children and domestics, and reconcile them to 
solitude and moonlight. 

Her mind was at this time roused from her own peculiar 
sorrows by an alarming event, which disturbed the public 
tranquillity, and awakened the fears of the whole province, by 
laying open the western frontier. This was the taking of 
Oswego by the French, which fortress was the only barrier, 
except the valor and conduct of Sir William Johnson and his 
Mohawk friends, by which the town was protected on that 
side. The poor people, who were driven by the terror of 
this event from the settlements in that quarter, excited the 
sympathy of liberal-minded persons ; and the interest which 
she took in their distresses, was one of the first things that 
roused the attention of our good aunt to her wonted benefi- 
cent exertions. General Bradstreet, who had a high respect 
for her understanding, and consulted her on all emergencies, 
had a profound reverenc^or the colonel's memory, and con- 
tinued his intimacy in the family. The critical situation of 
things at this time occasioned Lord Loudon to be sent out as 
commander of the forces in America. Madame received this 
nobleman when he visited Albany, and gave him most useful 
information. He was introduced to her by General Brad- 
street, whose power and consequence might be said to in- 
crease with the disasters of the country ; his department was 
a very lucrative one, and enabled him, first, greatly to enrich 
himself, and, in process of time, his friend, Philip Schuyler, 
who, from his deputy, became, in a manner, his coadjutor. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 171 

A-lbany now swarmed with engineers, planners, architects, 
ind boat-builders. Various military persons, since highly 
distinguished, whose names I do not recollect, though once 
familiar to me, obtained introductions to Madame, who began 
once more to occupy her mind with public matters, and to 
open her house to the more respected and well-known charac- 
ters among the military. Her brother-in-law, whom I have 
so often mentioned under the atfectionate appellation of Pe- 
drom, by which he was known in the family, being within 
less than half an hour's walk, spent much of his time with 
her, and received her company. This he was well qualified 
to do, being a person of a comely, dignified appearance, of 
frank, easy manners, inferior to his late brother only in depth 
of reflection and comprehension of mind. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Mohawk Indians. — The Superintendent. 

By this time matters had gradually assumed a new aspect 
on this great continent. The settlement at Albany was no 
longer an insulated region, ruled and defended by the wisdom 
and courage diff'used through the general mass of the inhabi- 
tants ; but began, in the ordinary course of things, to incor- 
porate with the general state. The Mohawk Indians were 
so engaged by treaties to assist the army, in its now regular 
operations to the westward, that they came less frequently to 
visit Albany. A line of forts had, at a prodigious expense, 
been erected, leading from Albany to Upper Canada, by the 
Mohawk river, and the lakes of Ontario, Niagara, &c. Many 
respectable engineers were engaged constructing these ; some 
of them I remember were Swedes, persons of a graceful ap- 
pearance, polished manners, and very correct conduct. These 
strangers conducted matters better than our own countrymen ; 
being more accommodating in their habits, and better accus- 
,omed to a severe climate, and to inconveniences of every 
kind. They were frequent guests at the Flats, were a pleas- 



172 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

ing accession to the society, and performed their duty to the 
public with a degree of honor and fidelity that checked abu- 
ses in others, and rescued the service they were engaged in 
from the reproach which it had incurred, in consequence of 
those fungi of society which had at first intruded into it. 

By the advice of the S.chuylers, there was now on the 
Mohawk river a superintendent of Indian affairs ; the impor- 
tance of which charge began to be fully understood. He 
was regularly appointed and paid by government. This was 
the justly celebrated Sir William Johnson, who held an office 
difficult both to define and execute. He might indeed be 
called the tribune of the Five Nations ; their claims he assert- 
ed, their rights he protected, and over their minds he possess- 
ed a greater sway than any other individual had ever attain- 
ed. He was indeed calculated to conciliate and retain the 
afi'ectioris of this brave people ; possessing in common with 
them many of those peculiarities of mind and manners that 
distinguished them from others. He was an uncommonly tall, 
well-made man, with a fine countenance ; which, however, 
had rather an expression of dignified sedateness, approaching 
to melancholy. He appeared to be taciturn, never wasting 
words on matters of no importance, but highly eloquent when 
the occasion called forth his powers. He possessed intuitive 
sagacity, and the most entire command of temper, and of 
countenance. He did by no means lose sight of his own in- 
terest, but on the contrary raised himself to power and wealth, 
in an open and active manner ; not disdaining any honorable 
means of benefiting himself; but at the same time the bad 
policy, as well as meanness of sacrificing respectability, to 
snatching at petty present advantages, were so obvious to 
him, that he laid the foundation of his future prosperity on the 
broad and deep basis of honorable dealing, accompanied by 
the most vigilant attention to the objects he had in view ; 
acting so as, without the least departure from integrity on the 
one hand, or inattention to his affairs on the other, to give, by 
his manner of conducting himself, an air of magnanimity to 
his character, that made him the object of universal confi- 
dence. He purchased from the Indians (having the grant 
confirmed by his sovereign) a large and fertile tract of land 
upon the Mohawk river ; where, having cleared and cultiva- 
ted the ground, he built two spacious and convenient places 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 173 

of residence ; known afterwards by the names of Johnson 
Castle, and Johnson Hall. The first was on a fine ejninence, 
stockaded round, and slightly fortified ; the last was built on 
the site of the river, on a most fertile and delightful plain, 
surrounded with an ample and well-cultivated domain ; and 
that again encircled by European settlers, who had first come 
there as architects, or workmen, and had been induced by Sir 
William's liberality, and the singular beauty of the district, to 
continue. His trade with the Five Nations was very much for 
their advantage ; he supplying them on more equitable terms 
than any trader, and not indulging the excesses in regard to 
strong liquors, which others were too easily induced to do. 
The castle contained the store in which all goods meant for 
the Indian traffic were laid up, and all the peltry received in 
exchange. The hall was his summer residence, and the 
place round which his greatest improvements were made. 
Here this singular man lived like a little sovereign ; kept an 
excellent table for strangers, and officers, whom the course 
of their duty now frequently led into these wilds ; and by con- 
fiding entirely in the Indians, and treating them with unvaried 
truth and justice, without ever yielding to solicitation what he 
had once refused, he taught them to repose entire confidence 
in him ; he, in his turn, became attached to them, wore in 
winter almost entirely their dress and ornaments, and con- 
tracted a kind of alliance with them ; for, becoming a widow- 
er in the prime of life, he had connected himself with an In- 
dian maiden, daughter to a sachem, who possessed an un- 
commonly agreeable person, and good understanding ; and 
whether ever formally married to him according to our usage, 
or not, contrived to live with him in great union and affection 
all his life. So perfect was his dependence on those people, 
whom his fortitude and other manly virtues had attached to 
him, that when they returned from their summer excursions, 
and exchanged the last year's furs for fire-armg, &c., they 
used to pass a few days at the castle ; when his family and 
most of his domestics were down at the hall. There they 
were all liberally entertained by their friend ; and five hun- 
dred of them have been known, for nights together, after 
drinking pretty freely, to lie around him on the floor, while 
he was the only white person in a house containing great 
quantities of every thing that was to them vahiable or desirable. 

15* 



174 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

While Sir William thus united in his mode of life, the calm 
urbanity of a liberal and extensive trader, with the splendid 
hospitality, the numerous attendance, and the plain though 
dignified manners of an ancient baron, the female part of his 
family were educated in a manner so entirely dissimilar from 
that of all other young people of their sex and station, that as 
a matter of curiosity, it is worthy a recital. These two young 
ladies, his daughters, inherited, in a great measure, the per- 
sonal advantages and strength of understanding for which 
their father was so distinguished. Their mother dying when 
they were young, bequeathed the care of them to a friend. 
This friend was the widow of an officer who had fallen in 
battle ; I am not sure whether she was devout, and shunned 
the world for fear of its pollutions, or romantic, and despised 
its selfish, bustling spirit : but so it was, that she seemed ut- 
terly to forget it, and devoted herself to her fair pupils. To 
these she taught needlework of the most elegant and ingeni- 
ous kinds, reading and writing : thus quietly passed their 
childhood ; their monitress not taking the smallest concern in 
family management, nor indeed the least interest in any worldly 
thing but themselves : far less did she inquire about the fash- 
ions or diversions which prevailed in a world she had re- 
nounced ; and from which she seemed to wish her pupils to 
remain forever estranged. Never was any thing so uniform 
as their dress, their occupations, and the general tenor of their 
lives. In the morning they rose early, read their prayer-book, 
I believe, but certainly their Bible, fed their birds, tended their 
flowers, and breakfasted ; then they were employed for some 
hours with unwearied perseverance, at fine needlework, for 
the ornamental parts of dress, which were the fashion of the 
day, without knowing to what use they were to be put, as 
they never wore. them ; and had not, at the age of sixteen, ever 
seen a lady, excepting each other and their governess ; they 
then read, a« long as they chose, either the voluminous ro- 
mances of the last century, of which their friend had ah am- 
ple collection, or Rollin's ancient history, the only books they 
had ever seen ; after dinner they regularly, in summer, took a 
long walk ; or an excursion in the sledge, in winter, with 
their friend ; and then returned and resumed their wonted 
occupations, with the sole variation of a stroll in the garden 
in summer, and a game at chess, or shuttlecock in winter. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 175 

Their dress was to the full as simple and uniform as every- 
thing else ; they wore wrappers of the finest chintz, and green 
silk petticoats ; and this the whole year round without varia- 
tion. Their hair, which was long and beautiful, was tied be- 
hind with a simple riband ; a large calash shaded each from 
the sun, and in winter they had long scarlet mantles that cov- 
ered them from head to foot. Their father did not live with 
them, but visited them every day in their apartment. This 
innocent and uniform life they led till the death of their moni- 
tress, which happened when the eldest was not quite seven- 
teen. On some future occasion I shall satisfy the curiosity 
which this short but faithful account of these amiable recluses 
has possibly excited.* 



CHAPTER XL. 

General Abercrombie. — Lord Howe. 

I MUST now return to Albany, and to the projected expedi- 
tion. 

General Abercrombie, who commanded on the northern 
lakes, was a brave and able man, though rather too much at- 
tached to the military schools of those days, to accommo- 
date himself to the desultory and uncertain warfare of the 
woods ; where sagacity, ready presence of mind, joined with 
the utmost caution, and a condescension of opinion to our In- 
dian allies, was of infinitely more consequence than rules and 
tactics, which were mere shackles and incumbrances in this 
contention, with difficulties and perplexities more harassing 
than mere danger. Indeed, when an ambuscade or sudden 
onset was followed by defeat, here (as in Braddock's case) 
the result reminded one of the rout of Absalom's army ; where, 
we are told, the wood devoured more than the sword. The 
general was a frequent guest with Madame, when the nature 
of his command would permit him to relax from the duties 

* These ladies married officers, who in succession lived aid-de-camps 
with their father. Their manners soon grew easy ; they readily acquired 
the habits of society, and madn excellent wives. 



176 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

that occupied him. He had his men encamped below Albany, 
in that great field which I have formerly described as the 
common pasture for the town. Many of the officers were 
quartered in the fort and town ; but Lord Howe always lay 
in his tent, with the regiment which he commanded ; and 
which he modelled in such a manner, that they were ever 
after considered as an example to the whole American army, 
who gloried in adopting all those rigid, yet salutary regula- 
tions, to which this young hero readily submitted, to enforce 
his commands by his example. 

Above the pedantry of holding up standards of military rules, 
where it was impossible to practise them, and the narrow 
spirit of preferring the modes of his own country, to those 
proved by experience to siftt that in which he was to act, 
Lord Howe laid aside all pride and prejudice, and gratefully 
accepted counsel from those whom he knew to be best quali- 
fied to direct him. Madame was delighted with the calm 
steadiness with which he carried through the austere rules 
which he found it necessary to lay down. In the first place 
he forbade all displays of gold and scarlet, in the rugged march 
they were about to undertake, and set the example by wear- 
ing himself an ammunition coat, that is to say, one of the sur- 
plus soldiers' coats cut short. This was a necessary precau- 
tion ; because in the woods the hostile Indians, who started 
from behind the trees, usually caught at the long and heavy 
skirts then worn by the soldiers ; and for the same reason he 
ordered the muskets to be shortened, that they might not, as 
on former occasions, be snatched from behind by these agile 
foes. To prevent the march of his regiment from being des- 
cried at a distance by the glittering of their arms, the barrels of 
their guns were all blackened ; and to save them from the 
tearing of bushes, the stings of insects, &c., he set them the 
example of wearing leggins, a kind of buskin made of strong 
woollen cloth, formerly described as a part of the Indian dress. 
The greatest privation to the young and vain yet remained. 
Hair well dressed, and in great quantity, was then considered 
as the greatest possible ornament, which those who had it took 
the utmost care to display to advantage, and to wear in a bag 
or a queue, whichever they fancied. Lord Howe's was fine, 
and very abundant; he, however, cropped it, and ordered 
every one else to do the same. Every morning he rose very 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 177 



early, and, after giving his orders, rode out to the Flats, break- 
fasted, and spent some time in conversation with his friends 
there ; and when in Albany, received all manner of useful 
information from the worthy magistrate Cornelius Cuyler. 
Another point which this young Lycurgus of the camp wished 
to establish, was that of not carrying any thing that was not 
absolutely necessary. An apparatus of tables, chairs, and 
such other luggage, he thought highly absurd, where people 
had to force their way, with unspeakable difficulty, to encoun- 
ter an enemy free from all such incumbrances. The French 
had long learned how little convenience could be studied on 
such occasions as the present. 

When his lordship got matters arranged to his satisfaction, 
he invited his officers to dine with him in his tent. They 
gladly assembled at the appointed hour, but were surprised to 
see no chairs or tables ; there were, however, bear-skins 
spread like a carpet. His lordship welcomed them, and sat 
down on a small log of wood ; they followed his example ; 
and presently the servants set down a large dish of pork and 
peas. His lordship, taking a vsheath from his pocket, out of 
which he produced a knife and fork, began to cut and divide 
the meat. They sat in a kind of awkward suspense, which 
he interrupted by asking if it were possible that soldiers like 
them, who had been so long destined for such a service, 
should not be provided with portable implements of this kind ; 
and finally relieved them from their embarrassment by distrib- 
uting to each a case the same as his own, which he had pro- 
vided for the purpose. The austere regulations, and constant 
self-denial which he imposed upon the troops he commanded, 
were patiently borne, because he was not only gentle in his 
manners, but generous and humane in a very high degree, and 
exceedingly attentive to the health and real necessities of the 
soldiery. Among many instances of this, a quantity of pow- 
dered ginger was given to every man ; and the sergeants were 
ordered to see, that when, in the course of marching, the sol- 
diers arrived hot and tired at the banks of any stream, they 
should not be permitted to stoop to drink, as they generally 
inclined to do, but be obliged to lift water in their canteens, 
and mix ginger with it. This became afterwards a general 
practice ; and in those aguish swamps, through which the 
troops were forced to march, was the means of saving many 



178 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

lives. Aunt Schuyler, as this amiable young officer famil- 
iarly styled his maternal friend, had the utmost esteem for 
him ; and the greatest hope that he would at some future pe- 
riod redress all those evils that had formerly impeded the ser- 
vice ; and perhaps plant the British standard on the walls of 
Quebec. But this honor another young hero was destined to 
achieve ; whose virtues were to be illustrated by the splendor 
of victory, the only light by which the multitude can see the 
merits of a soldier. 

The Schuylers regarded this expedition with a mixture of 
doubt and dismay, knowing too well, from the sad retrospect 
of former failures, how little A^alor and discipline availed 
where regular troops had to encounter with unseen foes, and 
with difficulties arising from the nature of the ground, for 
which military science affi^rded no remedy. Of General 
Abercrombie's worth and valor they had the highest opinion ; 
but they were doubtful of attacking an enemy so subtle and 
experienced on their own ground, in intrenchments, and this 
they feared he would have the temerity to attempt. In the 
mean time preparations were making for the assault. The 
troops were marched in detachments past the Flats, and each 
detachment quartered for a night on the common or in the of- 
fices. One of the first of these was commanded by Lee, of 
frantic celebrity, who afterwards, in the American war, joined 
the opponents of government, and was then a captain in the 
British service. Captain Lee had neglected to bring the cus- 
tomary warrants for impressing horses and oxen, and procu- 
ring a supply of various necessaries, to be paid for by the agents 
of government on showing the usual documents ; he, however, 
seized every thing he wanted where he could most readily 
find it, as if he were in a conquered country; and not content 
with this violence, poured forth a volley of execrations on 
those who presumed to question his right of appropriating for 
his troops every thing that could be serviceable to them : even 
Madame, accustomed to universal respect, and to be consid- 
ered as the friend and benefactress of the army, was not 
spared ; and the aids which she never failed to bestow on 
those whom she saw about to expose their lives for the gen- 
eral defence, were rudely demanded, or violently seized. 
Never did the genuine Christianity of this exalted character 
shine more brightly than in this exigency ; her countenance 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 179 

never altered, and she used every argument to restrain the 
rage of her domestics, and the clamor of her neighbors, who 
were treated in the same manner. Lee marched on after 
having done all the mischief in his power, and was the next 
day succeeded by Lord Howe, who was indignant upon hear- 
ing what had happened, and astonished at the calmness with 
which Madame bore the treatment she had received. She 
soothed him by telling him, that she knew too well the value 
of protection from a danger so imminent, to grow captious 
with her deliverers on account of a single instance of irregu- 
larity, and only regretted that they should have deprived her 
of her wonted pleasure, in freely bestowing whatever could 
advance the service, or refresh the exhausted troops. They 
had a long and very serious conversation that night. In the 
morning his lordship proposed setting out very early ; but 
when he rose was astonished to find Madame waiting, and 
breakfast ready : he smiled, and said he would not disappoint 
her, as it was hard to say when he might again breakfast with 
a lady. Impressed with an unaccountable degree of concern 
about the fate of the enterprise in which he was embarked, 
she again repeated her counsels and her cautions ; and when 
he was about to depart, embraced him with the affection of a 
mother, and shed many tears, a weakness she did not often 
give way to. 

Meantime, the best prepared and disciplined body of forces 
that had ever been assembled in America, were proceeding on 
an enterprise that, to the experience and sagacity of the Schuy- 
lers, appeared a hopeless, or, at least, a very desperate one. 
A general gloom overspread the family ; this, at all times 
large, was now augmented by several of the relations both of 
the colonel and Madame, who had visited them at that time to 
be nearer the scene of action, and to get the readiest and most 
authentic intelligence ; for the apprehended consequence of a 
defeat was the pouring in of the French troops into the inte- 
rior of the province ; in which case Albany might be aban- 
doned to the enraged savages attending the French army. A 
few days after Lord Howe's departure, in the afternoon, a man 
was seen coming on horseback from the north, galloping vio- 
lently, without his hat. Pedrom, as he was familiarly called, 
the colonel's only surviving brother, was with her, and ran 
instantly to inquire, well knowing he rode express. The man 



180 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 

galloped on, crying out that Lord Hov/e was killed. The 
mind of our good aunt had been so engrossed by her anxiety 
and fears for the event impending, and so impressed by the 
merit and magnanimity of her favorite hero, that her wonted 
firmness sunk under this stroke, and she broke out into bitter 
lamentations. This had such an effect on her friends and do- 
mestics, that shrieks and sobs of anguish echoed through 
every part of the house. Even those who were too young 
or too old to enter into the public calamity, were affected by 
the violent grief of aunt, who, in general, had too much self- 
command to let others witness her sorrows. Lord Howe 
was shot from behind a tree, probably by some Indian ; and 
the whole army were inconsolable for a loss they too well 
knew to be irreparable. This stroke, however, they soon 
found to be " portent and pain, a menace and a blow ;" but 
this dark prospect was cheered for a moment by a deceitful 
gleam of hope, which only added to the bitterness of disap- 
pointment. 



CHAPTER XLL 

Total defeat at Ticonderoga. — General Lee. — Humanity of Madame. 

The next day they heard the particulars of the skirmish, 
for it could scarce be called a regular engagement, which had 
proved fatal to the young warrior, whose loss was so deeply 
felt. The army had crossed lake George in safety, on the 
5th of July, and landed without opposition. They proceeded 
in four columns to Ticonderoga, and displayed a spectacle 
unprecedented in the New World ; — an army of sixteen thou- 
sand men, regulars and provincials, with a train of artillery, 
and all the necessary provisions for an active campaign or 
regular siege, followed by a little fleet of batteaux, pontons, 
Slc. They set out wrong, however, by not having Indian 
guides, who are alone to be depended on in such a place. 
In a short time the columns fell in upon each other, and oc- 
casioned much confusion. While they marched on in this 
bewildered manner, the advanced guard of the French, which 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 181 

had retired before them, were equally bewildered, and falling 
in with them in this confusion, a skirmish ensued, in which 
the French lost above three hundred men, and the British, 
though successful, lost as much as it was possible to lose, in 
one ; for here it was that Lord Howe fell. 

The fort is in a situation of peculiar natural strength ; it 
lies on a little peninsula, with lake George on one side, and 
a narrow opening, communicating with lake Champlain, on 
the other. It is surrounded by water on three sides ; and in 
front there is a swamp, very easily defended ; and where it 
ceased the French had made a breastwork above eight feet 
high. Not content with this, they had felled immense trees 
on the spot, and laid them heaped on each other, with their 
branches outward, before their works. In fine, there was no 
place on earth where aggression was so difficult, and defence 
so easy, as in these woods ; especially when, as in this case, 
the party to be attacked had great leisure to prepare their de- 
fence. On this impenetrable front they had also k line of 
cannon mounted ; while the difficulty of bringing artillery 
through this swampy ground, near enough to bear upon the 
place, was unspeakable. This garrison, almost impregnable 
from situation, was defended by between four and i\ve thou- 
sand men An engineer, sent to reconnoitre, was of opinion 
that it might be attacked without waiting for the artillery. 
The fatal resolution was taken without consulting those who 
were best qualified to judge. An Indian or native American 
were here better skilled in the nature of the ground and proba- 
bilities of success. They knew better, in short, what the 
spade, hatchet, or musket, could or could not do, in such situ- 
ations, than the most skilful veteran from Europe, however 
replete with military science. Indeed, when system usurps 
the province of plain sound sense in unknown exigences, the 
result is seldom favorable ; and this truth was never more 
fatally demonstrated than in the course of the American war, 
where an obstinate adherence to regular tactics, which do 
not bend to time or place, occasioned from first to last, an 
incalculable waste of blood, of treasure, and of personal cour- 
age. The resolution then was, to attack the enemy without 
loss of time, and even without waiting for artillery. Alas ! 
" what have not Britons dared !" 

I cannot enter into the dreadful detail of what followed ; 
16 



182 SKETCIIF.S OF MANNERS 

certainly never was infatuation equal to this. The forty- 
second regiment was then in the height of deserved reputa- 
tion ; in it there was not a private man that did not consider 
himself as rather above the lower class of people, and pecu- 
liarly bound to support the honor of the very singular corps to 
which he belonged. This brave, hard-fated regiment was 
then commanded by a veteran of great experience and mili- 
tary skill, Colonel Gordon Graham, who had the first point 
of attack assigned to him ; he was wounded at the first onset. 
How many this regiment, in particular, lost of men and offi- 
cers, I cannot now exactly say ; but these were very many. 
What I distinctly remember, having often heard of it since, 
is that, of the survivors, every officer retired wounded off 
the field. Of the fifty-fifth regiment, to which my father had 
newly been attached, ten officers were killed, including all 
the field officers. No human beings could show more deter- 
mined courage than this brave army did. Standing four hours 
under a constant discharge of cannon and musketry from 
barricades, on which it was impossible for them to make the 
least impression, General Abercrombie saw the fruitless waste 
of blood that was every hour increasing, and ordered a re- 
treat, which was very precipitate, so much so, that they 
crossed the lake, and regained their camp on the other side, 
the same night. Two thousand men were killed, wounded, 
or taken, on this disastrous day. On the next, those most 
dangerously wounded were sent forward in boats, and reached 
the Flats before evening ; they in a manner brought (at least 
confirmed) the news of the defeat. Madame had her barn 
instantly fitted up into a temporary hospital, and a room in her 
house allotted for the surgeon who attended the patients ; 
among these was Lee, the same insolent and rapacious Lee, 
who had insulted this general benefactress, and deprived her 
of one of her greatest pleasures, that of giving a share of 
every thing she had, to advance the service. She treated 
him with compassion, without adverting, by the least hint, to 
the past. She tore up her sheets and table-linen for bandages ; 
and she and her nieces were constantly employed in attend- 
ing and cheering the wounded, while all her domestics were 
busied in preparing food and every thing necessary for those 
unhappy sufferers. Even Lee felt and acknowledged the 
resistless force of such generous humanity. He swore, in his 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 183 

vehement manner, that he was sure there would be a place 
reserved for Madame in heaven, though no other woman 
should be there, and that he should wish for nothing better 
than to share her final destiny. The active industrious bene- 
ficence she exercised at this time, not only towards the 
wounded, but the wretched widows and orphans who had re- 
mained here, and had lost their all in their husbands and parents, 
was beyond praise. Could I clearly recollect and arrange 
the anecdotes of this period, as I have often heard them, they 
would of themselves fill a volume ; suffice it, that such was 
the veneration in which she was held in the army after this 
period, that I recollect, among the earliest impressions re- 
ceived in my mind, that of a profound reverence for Madame, 
as these people were w^ont to call her. Before I ever saw 
her, I used to think of her as a most august personage, of a 
majestic presence ; sitting on an elevated seat, and scattering 
bounty to wounded soldiers, and poor women and children. 



CHAPTER XLIl. 



The family of Madame's sister. — The death of the latter. 

Aunt found consolation for all her sorrows in the family 
of her favorite sister. The promise of uncommon merit, 
which appeared in the rising branches of that singularly fine 
family, was to her a peculiar gratification ; for no mother 
could love her own children more tenderly than she did them. 
The two daughters, which were among the eldest, passed, by 
turns, much of their time with her, and were, from their 
beauty and their manners, the ornaments of her society ; while 
their good sense, ripened by being called early into action, 
made these amiable and elegant young women more a com- 
fort and assistance than a care or charge to their aunt, at a 
very early period. They had four brothers ; three of whom 
are still living, and have, through life, done honor by their 
virtues, their manners, and their conduct, in the most trying 
exigences, to the memory and exai»le of their excellent 
parents, as well as to that collateral school of pure morality, 



184 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

and sound and genuine policy, of which they shared the 
benefit. 

The history of this family, in the after vicissitudes in which 
the political changes in their country involved them, would 
furnish a very interesting detail, were it allowable to offend 
the delicacy of modest worth, or eligible to expose the de- 
pravity and fury of enraged factions. Of the brothers, I shall 
only mention that the third, in his childhood, showed uncom- 
mon fire and vivacity ; not seeming to retain the smallest 
portion of that hereditary phlegm, which could still be easily 
traced through many of the settlers of this peculiar colony. 
He could scarce be called an unlucky boy, for he never did 
harm designedly ; yet he was so volatile, eccentric, and 
original, in the frolicsome excursions of his fancy, that many 
ludicrous and some serious consequences resulted from them. 
He showed, however, amidst all these gayeties, from a very 
early age, a steady and determined predilection towards a mili- 
tary life, which in due time was indulged, and has been since 
the means of leading him on to rank and distinction in the 
British service.* Of the eldest brother I shall have occasion to 
speak hereafter ; the second and youngest were zealous par- 
tisans of government at the time of the revolution. Their 
loyalty occasioned the loss of their fortunes and their homes ; 
but their worth and bravery procured them confidence and 
important commands in that painful service which was car- 
ried on during the American war, at the end of which they 
were partially rewarded by grants of land in Upper Canada. 
Loyalty and courage seem hereditary in this family. Many 
sons of those expatriated brothers are now serving their 
country in different parts of the empire, undeterred by the 
losses and sufferings of their parents in the royal cause. It 
was a marked distinction of character to be observed in the 
conduct of aunt's proteges, that though she was equally at- 
tached to the children of her husband's relations and her 
own, these latter, only, adopted her political sentiments, with 
a single exception, which shall be mentioned in its place. 

The defeat at Ticonderoga bore very hard upon the mind 
of Madame ; public spirit was always an active principle in 

* The capture of Tobuffo was achieved by General C , wlio has 

for near forty years been a|i|aged m the most active and hazardous de- 
partments of the service. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 185 

her strong and reflecting mind ; and from the particular cir- 
cmnstances in which she had always been involved, her pa- 
triotism gained strength by exercise. The same ardent con- 
cern for the public good, which could produce no other effect 
but fruitless anxiety, would be as unavailing as unnecessary 
in our secure and tranquil state ; but with her it was an ex- 
ercised and useful virtue. Her attachment to the British na- 
tion, which was to the very last a ruling principle both of her 
actions and opinions, contributed to embitter this blow to her 
and her family. The taking of Frontinac, on the western 
lakes, and the re-establishment of our power in that important 
quarter, were achieved by General Bradstreet, whom Aber- 
crombie dispatched at the head of three thousand provincials. 
This was a cordial much wanted by all, and more particularly 
gratifying to the family at the Flats, as the colonel's nephew, 
Philip Schuyler, though his was not exactly a warlike de- 
partment, had evinced much spirit, prudence, and resolution 
during that expedition ; in which, without pubUcly arrogating 
comuiand, he, under Bradstreet, (who was indeed a very able 
man,) directed most of the operations. In the mind of this 
extraordinary person, qualities suited to all occasions lay dor- 
mant and unsuspected, till called forth by the varying events 
of his busy though not bustling life ; for he seemed to carry 
on the plans, public and private, which he executed with su- 
perior ability and success, by mere volition. No one ever 
saw him appear hurried, embarrassed, or agitated. The suc- 
cess of this expedition, and the rising distinction of her 
nephew Philip, was some consolation to Madame for the late 
disaster. Still friendly and hospitable, she was as kindly 
disposed towards the IBritish as ever, and as indefatigable in 
promoting a good understanding between them and the na- 
tives ; but the army was now on a larger scale. It was in a 
manner regularly organized, and more independent of such 
aid as individuals could bestow ; and the many children edu- 
cated by her, or left orphans to her care, became, from their 
number, their marriage, and various pursuits, objects of more 
earnest solicitude. 

x\t this period Aunt Schuyler, now everywhere spoken of 
by that affectionate designation, met with a severe affliction 
in the death of a sister, whom she had always loved with 
more than common tenderness, and whose family she corisid- 

16* 



186 



SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



ered in a manner as her own. This was Mrs. Cuyler, the 
wife of that able and upright magistrate, Cornelius Cuyler, of 
whose family I have just been giving some account. Mrs. 
Cuyler, with a character more gentle and retiring, possessed 
the good sense and benevolence for which aunt was distin- 
guished, though her sphere of action being entirely within 
the limits of her own family, she could not be so well known 
or so much celebrated. The colonel had always had a great 
attachment to this valuable person ; which still more endeared 
her to his widow. She, however, always found new duties 
resulting from her afflictions, so that she could not afford to 
sink under them. She now was at pains to console her sis- 
ter's husband, who really seemed borne down by this stroke ; 
and the exertions she made for the good of his singularly 
promising family, kept her mind occupied. 



CHAPTER XLIIL 



Further succeeses of the British arms. — A Missionary. — Cortlandt 
Schuyler. 

The conquest of Oswego, which was this year (1759) re- 
taken from the French by General Bradstreet, contributed to 
revive the drooping spirits of the army and the patriots ; and 
it was quickly succeeded by the dear-bought conquest of 
Quebec. Though Madame had never seen General Wolfe, 
she shared the general admiration of his heroism, and the 
general sorrow for his loss, in a very high degree. She, too, 
was conscious that the security and tranquillity purchased 
by the conquest of Quebec, would, in a manner, loosen the 
bonds which held the colonists attached to a government 
which they only endured while they required its protection. 
This led to consequences which she too clearly foresaw. 

The mind of Mrs. Schuyler, which had been greatly agi- 
tated by the sad events at Ticonderoga, now began, in conse- 
quence of the late successes, to become more composed, and 
to turn itself to objects of utility, as formerly. What she had 
done, and made others do for the orphans and widows that 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 187 

had become such in consequence of the attack on the lines, 
could scarce be credited. No one would suppose a moderate 
fortune like hers, could possibly be equal to it. She had at 
this time too much satisfaction in seeing the respective 
churches (in all which she was deeply interested) filled by 
persons who did honor to their profession. 

A young clergyman named Westerloe, succeeded Domine 
Freylinghausen, after an interval of three or four years, during 
which the charge was irregularly filled. This young man 
had learning, talent, and urbanity ; he had all the sanctity of 
life and animated eloquence of his predecessor, without his 
love of power, his bustling turn, or his eagerness for popular- 
ity ; he was, indeed, a person of very singular merit, but stu- 
dious and secluded, and unwilling to mix with strangers. To 
Madame, however, he was open and companionable, and knew 
and valued the ^tractions of her conversation. 

Dr. Ogilvie was the English Episcopal minister, who, under 
the name of Indian missionary, and with a salary allowed him 
as such, had the charge of performing duty in a church erect- 
ed for that purpose in town, to strangers, and such of the 
military as chose to attend. The Christian Indians, who were 
his particular charge, lived at too great a distance to benefit 
by his labors. The province, however, allowed a salary to a 
zealous preacher, who labored among them with apostolic 
fervor, and with equal disregard to the things of this world. 
Dr. Ogilvie was highly respected, and, indeed, much beloved 
by all who were capable of appreciating his merit. His ap- 
pearance was singularly prepossessing ; his address and man- 
ners entirely those of a gentleman. His abilities were respect- 
able, his doctrine was pure and scriptural, and his life exem- 
plary, both as a clergyman and in his domestic circle, where 
he was peculiarly amiable ; add to all this a talent for conver- 
sation, extensive reading, and a thorough knowledge of life. 
The doctor was, indeed, a man after Madame's own heart ; 
and she never ceased regretting his departure to New York, 
where he was settled two years after. For Stuart* she had 
the utmost veneration. Perfectly calculated for his austere 
and uncourtly duties, he was wholly devoted to them, and 
scarce cast a look back to that world which he had forsaken. 

' * A pious missionan'' in the Mohawk country. 



188 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

Yet he was, on various accounts, highly valued by Madame ; 
for since the appointment of the superintendent, and more par- 
ticularly since the death of the colonel, he became more impor- 
tant to her, as the link which held her to the Mohawks, whom 
she now saw so much more seldom, but always continued to 
love. The comprehension of her mind was so great, and her 
desire for knowledge so strong, that she found much enter- 
tainment in tracing the unfoldings of the human mind in its 
native state, and the gradual progress of intellect when en- 
lightened by the gentle influence of pure religion ; and this 
good father of the deserts gratified her more by the details he 
was enabled to give of the progress of devotion and of mind 
among his beloved little flock, than he could have done by all 
that learning, or knowledge of the world can bestow. Again 
the Flats began to be the resort of the best society. She had 
also her nephews in succession ; one, a broth^ of that Philip 
so often mentioned, (since better known to the world by the 
appellation of General Schuyler,) had been long about the 
family. He was a youth distinguished for the gracefulness 
of his person, and the symmetry of his features. He was a 
perfect model of manly beauty, though almost as dark as an 
Indian. Indeed, both in looks and character, he greatly re- 
sembled the aborigines of the country. He seemed perfectly 
unconscious of the extraordinary personal advantages which 
he possessed ; was brave, honorable, and endowed with a very 
good understanding, but collected within himself ; silent, yet 
eloquent when he chose to interest himself, or was warmed 
by the occasion ; and had such stainless probity, that every 
one respected and trusted him. Yet he was so very indifl'er- 
ent to the ordinary pleasures and pursuits of life, and so en- 
tirely devoted to the sports of the field, that when his aunt 
afterwards procured him a commission in a marching regiment, 
hoping thus to tame and brighten him, he was known in Ire- 
land by the name of the handsome savage. This title did 
not belong to him in the sense we most often use it in, for 
his manners were not rude and harsh in the least ; though an 
air of cold austerity, which shaded his fine countenance, with 
his delight in solitary amusements, led the gay and social 
inhabitants of the country in which he resided, to consider 
him as unwillingly rescued from his native forests. This 
youth was named Cortlandt, and will be more particularly 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 189 

mentioned hereafter. That eccentric and frolicsome boy, 
whose humorous sallies and playful flights were a continual 
source of amusement, was also a frequent guest, but did not 
stay so long as his elder brother, who certainly was, of all 
aunt's adopted, the greatest favorite, and became more endear- 
ed to her, from being less successful in life than the rest of 
his family. 

In a council held between their relations and Madame, it 
was decided that both Cortlandt and Cornelius should try their 
fortune in arms. Cortlandt was made an ensign in an old 
regiment, and went over to Ireland. Cornelius, a year after, 
got a commission in the 55th, then commanded by that singu- 
larly worthy and benevolent character. Sir Adolphus Oughton. 
The mayor was highly respected for his wisdom ; yet his 
purchasing a commission for so mere a boy, and laying out 
for it a sum of money which appeared large in a country 
where people contrived to do very well with wonderfully lit- 
tle of that article, astonished all his countrymen. Conscious, 
however, of his son's military genius, and well knowing that 
the vivacity that filled his grave kinsmen with apprehension, 
was merely a lambent flame of youthful gayety, which would 
blaze without scorching, he fearlessly launched him into a 
profession in which he hoped to see him attain merited dis- 
tinction. The excellent patroness of all these young people 
had the satisfaction of seeing every one brought up under her 
auspices, (and, by this time, they were not a few,) do honor 
to her instructions, and fill their different stations in a manner 
the most creditable and prosperous ; while she was often sur- 
rounded by the children of those who had engaged her earli- 
est cares. 



CHAPTER XLIV. 



Burning of the house at the Flats. — Madame's removal. — Journey of the 

Author. * 

It was at this time, when she was in the very acme of her 
reputation, and her name was never mentioned without some 



190 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

added epithet of respect or affection, that her house, so long 
the receptacle of all that was good or intelligent, and the 
asylum of all that was helpless and unfortunate, was entirely 
consumed before her eyes. 

In the summer of this year, as General Bradstreet was 
riding by the Flats one day, and proposing to call on Madame, 
he saw her sitting in a great chair under the little avenue of 
cherry-trees that led from her house to the road. All the 
way as he approached he had seen smoke, and at last flames, 
bursting out from the top of her house. He was afraid to 
alarm her suddenly ; but when he told her, she heard it with 
the utmost composure ; pointed out the likeliest means to 
check the fire ; and ordered the neighbors to be summoned, 
and the most valuable goods first removed, without ever at- 
tempting to go over to the house herself, where she knew she 
could be of no service ; but with the most admirable presence 
of mind, she sat still with a placid countenance, regulating 
and ordering every thing in the most judicious manner, and 
with as much composure as if she had nothing to lose. 
When evening came, of that once happy mansion, not a sin- 
gle beam was left, and the scorched brick walls were all that 
remained to mark where it had stood. 

Madame could not be said to be left without a dwelling, 
having a house in Albany rather larger than the one thus 
destroyed. But she was fondly attached to the spot which 
had been the scene of so much felicity, and was rendered 
more dear to her by retaining within its bounds the remains 
of her beloved partner. She removed to Pedrom's house for 
the night. The news of what had happened spread every- 
where ; and she had the comfort of knowing, in consequence 
of this misfortune, better than she could by any other means, 
how great a degree of public esteem and private gratitude she 
had excited. The next day people came from all quarters to 
condole, and ask her directions where and how she would 
choose to have another house built. And in a few days the 
ground was covered with bricks, timber, and other materials, 
brought there by her friends in voluntary kindness. It is to 
be observed that the people in the interior of New York were 
so exceedingly skilful in the use, not only of the axe, but of 
all ordinary tools used in planing and joining timber, that 
with the aid of a regular carpenter or two to carry on the nicer 



AN» SCENERY IN AMERICA. 191 

parts of the work, a man could build an ordinary house, if it 
were a wooden one, with very hv^^- more than his own domes- 
tics. It can scarce be credited that this house, begun in Au- 
gust, was ready for aunt's reception against winter, which 
here begins very early. But General Bradstreet had sent 
some of the king's workmen, considering them as employed 
for the public service, while carrying on this building. The 
most unpleasant circumstance about this new dwelling, was 
the melancholy hiatus which appeared in front, where the 
former large house had stood, and where the deep and spa- 
cious cellars still yawned in gloomy desolation. Madame, 
who no longer studied appearance, but merely thought of a 
temporary accommodation, for a life which neither she nor 
any one expected to be a long one, ordered a broad wooden 
bridge, like those we see over rivers. This bridge was fur- 
nished with seats like a portico, and this, with the high walls 
of the burnt house, which were a kind of screen before the 
new one, gave the whole the appearance of an ancient ruin. 
Madame did not find the winter pass comfortably. That 
road, now that matters were regularly settled, was no longer 
the constant resort of her military friends. Her favorite 
nieces were too engaging, and too much admired, to leave 
room to expect they should remain with her. She found her 
house comparatively cold and inconvenient, and the winter 
long and comfortless. She could not now easily go the dis- 
tance to church. Pedrom, that affectionate and respected 
brother, was now, by increasing deafness, disqualified from 
being a companion ; and sister Susan, infirm and cheerless, 
was, for the most part, confined to her chamber. Under 
these circumstances she was at length prevailed on to re- 
move to Albany. The Flats she gave in lease to Pedrom's 
son Stephen. The house and surrounding grounds were let 
to an Irish gentleman, who came over to America to begin a 
new course of life, after spending his fortune in a fashionable 
dissipation. On coming to America, he found that there was 
an intermediate state of hardship and self-denial to be en- 
countered, before he could enter on that fancied Arcadia 
which he thought was to be found in every wood. He set- 
tled his family in this temporary dwelling, while he went to 
traverse the provinces in search of some unforfeited Eden, 
where the rose had no thorn, and the curse of ceaseless la- 



192 SKETCHES OF 31ANXKR3 

bor had not begun to operate. Madame found reason to be 
highly satisfied with the change. She had mills which sup- 
plied her with bread, her slaves cut and brought home fire- 
wood, she had a good garden, and fruit and every other rural 
dainty came to her in the greatest abundance. All her for- 
mer proteges and friends in different quarters delighted to 
send their tribute ; and this was merely an interchange of 
kindness. 

Soon after this removal, her eldest niece, a remarkably 
fine young woman, was married to Mr. C. of C. manor, 
which was accounted one of the best matches, or rather the 
very best in the province. She was distinguished by a fig- 
ure of uncommon grace and dignity, a noble and expressive 
countenance, and a mind such as her appearance led one to 
expect. This very respectable person is, I believe, still 
living, after having witnessed among her dearest connections, 
scenes the most distressing, and changes the most painful, 
She has ever conducted herself so as to do honor to the ex- 
cellent examples of her mother q^nd aunt, and to be a patron 
of steadfast truth and generous friendship, in the most trying 
exigences. Her younger sister, equally admired, though 
possessing a different style of beauty, more soft and debo- 
nair, with the fairest complexion, and most cheerful simpli- 
city of aspect, was the peculiar favorite of her aunt, above 
all that ever she took charge of; she, too, was soon after 
married to that highly esteemed patriot the late Isaac L., re- 
vered, through the whole continent, for his sound good sense 
and genuine public spirit. He was, indeed, " happily tem- 
pered, mild, and firm;" and was finally the victim of steadfast 
loyalty. 

It now remains to say how the writer of these pages be- 
came so well acquainted with the subject of these menwirs. 

My father was at this time a subaltern in the 55th regi- ' 
ment. That corps was then stationed at Oswego ; but du- 
ring the busy and warlike period I have been describing, my 
mother and I were boarded in the country below Albany, 
with the most worthy people imaginable ; with whom we 
ever after kept up a cordial friendship. My father, wishing 
to see his family, was indulged with permission, and at the 
same time ordered to take the command of an additional 
company, who were to come up, and to purchase for the 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 193 

regiment all the stores they should require for the winter ; 
which proved a most extensive commission. In the month 
of October he set out on this journey, or voyage rather, in 
which it was settled that my mother and I should accompany 
him. We were, I believe, the first females, above the very 
lowest ranks, who had ever penetrated so far into this remote 
wilderness. Certainly never was joy greater than that which 
filled my childish mind on setting out on this journey. I had 
before seen little of my father, and the most I knew of him 
was from the solicitude I had heard expressed on his ac- 
count, and the fear of his death after every battle. I was, 
indeed, a little ashamed of having a military father, brought 
up as I had mostly been, in a Dutch family, and speaking 
that language as fluently as my own ; yet, on the other hand, 
I had felt so awkward at seeing all my companions have fa- 
thers to talk and complain to, while I had none, that I thought 
upon the whole it was a very good thing to have a father of 
anv kind. The scarlet coat, which I had been taught to 
consider as the symbol of wickedness, disgusted me in some 
deoree : but then, to my great comfort, I found my father did 
not swear; and again, to my unspeakable delight, that he 
praved. A soldier pray ! was it possible ? And should I 
really see my father in heaven ? How transporting ! By a 
sudden revolution of opinion, I now thought my father the 
most charming of all beings ; and the overflowings of my 
good-will reached to the whole company, because they wore 
the same color, and seemed to respect and obey him. I 
dearly loved idleness too, and the more, because my mother, 
who delighted in needlework, confined me too much to it. 
What joys were mine ! to be idle for a fortnight, seeing new 
woods, rivers, and animals, every day ; even then the love 
of nature was, in my young bosom, a passion productive of 
incessant delight. I had, too, a primer, two hymns, and a 
ballad ; and these I read over and over with great diligence. 
At intervals my attention was agreeably engaged by the de- 
tails the soldiers gave my father of their manner of living 
and fighting in the woods, &c. ; and with these the praises 
of Madame were often mingled. I thought of her continu- 
ally ; every thing great I heard about her, even her size, had 
its impression. She became the heroine of my childish im- 
agination ; and I thought of her as something both a.wful and 

17 



194 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

admirable. We had the surgeon of the regiment and anot]ier 
officer with us ; they talked too of Madame, of Indians, of 
battles, and of ancient history. Sitting from morning to night 
musing in the boat, contemplating my father, who appeared 
to me a hero and a saint, and thinking of Aunt Schuyler, 
who filled up my whole mind with the grandeur with which 
my fancy had invested her ; and then having my imagination 
continually amused with the variety of noble wild scenes 
which the beautiful banks of the Mohawk affijrded, I am 
convinced I thought more in that fortnight, that is to say, 
acquired more ideas, and took more lasting impressions, than 
ever I did in the same space of time, in my life. This, how- 
ever foreign it may appear to my subject, I mention, as so 
far connecting with it, that it accounts, m some measure, for 
that development of thought which led me to take such ready 
and strong impressions from Aunt's conversation when after- 
wards I knew her. 



CHAPTER XLV. 



Continuation of the Journey. — Arrival at Oswego. — Regulations, Studies, 
and Amusements there. 

Never, certainly, was a journey so replete with felicity. 
I luxuriated in idleness and novelty ; knowledge was my de- 
light, and it was now pouring in on my mind from all sides. 
What a change from sitting down pinned to my sampler by 
my mother till the hour of play, and then running wild with 
children as young, and still simpler than myself. Much at- 
tended to by all my fellow-travellers, I was absolutely intoxi- 
cated with the charms of novelty, and the sense of my new- 
found importance. The first day we came to Schenectady, 
a little town, situated in a rich and beautiful spot, and partly 
supported by the Indian trade. The next day we embarked, 
proceeded up the river with six batteaux, and came early in 
the evening to one of the most charming scenes imaginable, 
where Fort Hendrick was built ; so called, in compliment to 
the principal sachem, or king of the Mohawks. The castle 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 195 

of this primitive monarch stood at a little distance on a rising 
ground, surrounded by palisades. He resided, at the time, 
in a house which the public workmen, who had lately built 
this fort, had been ordered to erect for him in the vicinity. 
We did not fail to wait upon his majesty ; who, not choosing 
to depart too much from the customs of his ancestors, had 
not permitted divisions of apartments, or modern furniture to 
profane his new dwelling. It had the appearance of a good 
barn, and was divided across by a mat hung in the middle. 
King Hendrick, who had indeed a very princely figure, and 
a countenance that would not have dishonored royalty, was 
sitting on the floor beside a large heap of wheat, surrounded 
with baskets of dried berries of different kinds ; beside him, 
his son, a very pretty boy, somewhat older than myself, was 
caressing a foal, which was unceremoniously introduced into 
the royal residence. A laced hat, a fine saddle and pistols, 
gifts of his good brother the great king, were hung round on 
the cross beams. He was splendidly arrayed in a coat of 
pale blue, trimmed with silver ; all the rest of his dress was 
of the fashion of his own nation, and highly embellished 
with beads and other ornaments. All this suited my taste 
exceedingly, and was level to my comprehension. I was 
prepared to admire King Hendrick, by having heard him de- 
scribed as a generous warrior, terrible to his enemies, and 
kind to his friends : the character of all others calculated to 
make the deepest impression on ignorant innocen^, in a 
country where infants learned the horrors of war,*lroni its 
proximity. Add to all this, that the monarch smiled, clapped 
my head, and ordered me a little basket, very pretty, and 
filled by the officious kindness of his son with dried berries. 
Never did princely gifts, or the smile of royalty, produce 
more ardent admiration and profound gratitude. I went out 
of the royal presence overawed and delighted, and am not 
sure but what I have liked kings all my life the better for 
this happy specimen, to which I was so early introduced. 
Had I seen royalty, properly such, invested with all the 
pomp of European magnificence, I should possibly have been 
confused and over-dazzled. But this was quite enough, and 
not too much for me ; and I went away, lost in a revery, 
and thought of nothing but kings, battles, and generals, for 
days after. 



196 SKETCHES OF MAiNNERS 



This journey, charming my romantic imagination by its 
very delays and difficulties, was such a source of interest 
and novelty to me, that above all things I dreaded its conclu- 
sion, which I well knew would be succeeded by long tasks 
and close confinement. Happily for me we soon entered 
upon Wood-creek, the most desirable of all places for a trav- 
eller who loves to linger, if such another traveller there be. 
This is a small river, which winds irregularly through a deep 
and narrow valley of the most lavish fertility. The depth 
and richness of the soil here were evinced by the loftiness 
and the nature of the trees, which were hickory, butternut, 
chesnut, and sycamores of vast circumference as well as 
height. These became so top-heavy, and their roots were so 
often undermined by this insidious stream, that in every tem- 
pestuous night some giants of the grove fell prostrate, and 
very frequently across the stream, where they lay in all their 
pomp of foliage, like a leafy bridge, unwithered, and forming 
an obstacle almost invincible to all navigation. The Indian 
lifted his slight canoe, and carried it past the tree ; but our 
deep-loaded batteaux could not be so managed. Here my 
orthodoxy was shocked, and my anti-military prejudices re- 
vived, by the swearing of the soldiers ; but then, again, my 
veneration for my father was if possible increased, by his 
lectures against swearing, provoked by their transgression. 
Nothing remained for our heroes but to attack these sylvan 
giants ^e in hand, and make way through their divided 
bodies. The assault upon fallen greatness was unanimous 
and unmerciful, but the resistance was tough, and the process 
tedious ; so much so, that we were three days proceeding 
fourteen miles, having at every two hours' end at least a new 
tree to cut through. 

It was here, as far as I recollect the history of my own 
heart, that the first idea of artifice ever entered into my mind. 
It was, like most female artifices, the offspring of vanity. 
These delays were a new source of pleasure to me. It was 
October ; the trees we had to cut through were often loaded 
with nuts ; and while I ran lightly along the branches to fill 
my royal basket with their spoils, which I had great pleasure 
in distributing, I met with multitudes of fellow-plunderers in 
the squirrels of various colors and sizes, who were here num- 
berless. This made my excursions amusing. But when I 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 197 

found my disappearance excited alarm, they assumed more 
interest : it was so fine to sit quietly amohg the branches and 
hear con-cern and solicitude expressed about the child. 

I will spare the reader the fatigue of accompanying our 
little fleet through 

" Antres vast and deserts wild ;" 

only observing, that the magnificent solitude through which 
we travelled was much relieved by the sight of Johnson Hall, 
beautifully situated in a plain by the river ; while Johnson 
Castle, a few miles further up, made a most respectable ap- 
pearance on a commanding eminence at some distance. 

We travelled from one fort to another ; but in three or four 
instances, to my great joy, they were so remote from each 
other that we found it necessary to encamp at night on the 
bank of the river. This, in a land of profound solitude, where 
wolves, foxes, and bears abounded, and were very much in- 
clined to consider and treat us as intruders, might seem dis- 
mal to wiser folks. But I was so gratified by the bustle and 
agitation produced by our measures of defence, and actuated 
by the love which all children have for mischief that is not 
fatal, that I enjoyed our night's encampment exceedingly. 
We stopped early wherever we saw the largest and most 
combustible kind of trees. Cedars were great favorites, and 
the first work was to fell and pile upon each other an incredi- 
ble number, stretched lengthways ; while every one who 
could, was busied in gathering withered branches of pine, 
&c., to fill up the interstices of the pile and make the green 
wood burn the faster. Then a train of gunpowder was laid 
along to give fire to the whole fabric at once, which blazed 
and crackled magnificently. Then the tents were erected 
close in a row before this grand conflagration. This was not 
merely meant to keep us warm, though the nights did begin 
to grow cold, but to frighten wild beasts and wandering In- 
dians. In case any such, belonging to hostile tribes, should 
see this prodigious blaze, the size of it was meant to give 
them an idea of a greater force than we possessed. 

In one place, where we were surrounded by hills, with 
swamps lying between them, there seemed to be a general 
congress of wolves, who answered each other from opposite 
hills in sounds the most terrific. Probably the terror which 



198 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

all savage animals have at fire, w^as exalted into fury by see- 
ing so many enemies whom they durst not attack. The bull- 
frogs, those harmless though hideous inhabitants of the 
swamps, seemed determined not to be outdone, and roared a 
tremendous bass to this bravura accompaniment. This was 
almost too much for my love of the terrible sublime : some 
women, who were our fellow-travellers, shrieked with terror ; 
and finally, the horrors of that night were ever after held in 
awful remembrance by all who shared them. 

The last night of this eventful pilgrimage, of which I fear 
to tire my readers by a further recital, was spent at Fort 
Bruerton, then commanded by Capt. Mungo Campbell,* whose 
warm and generous heart, whose enlightened and compre- 
hensive mind, whose social qualities and public virtues, I 
should delight to commemorate did my limits permit ; suffice 
it, that he is endeared to my recollection* by being the first 
person who ever supposed me to have a mind capable of cul- 
ture, and I was ever after distinguished by his partial notice. 
Here we were detained two days by a premature fall of snow. 
Very much disposed to be happy anywhere, I was here par- 
ticularly so. Our last day's journey, which brought us to 
Lake Ontario and Fort Oswego, our destined abode, was a 
very hard one : we had people going before, breaking the ice 
with paddles, all the way. 

All that I had foreboded of long tasks, confinement, &c., 
fell short of the reality. The very deep snow confined us 
all ; and at any rate the rampart or the parade would have 
been no favorable scene of improvement for me. One great 
source of entertainment I discovered here was no other than 
the Old Testament, which, during my confinement, I learned 
to read ; till then having done so very imperfectly. It was 
an unspeakable treasure as a story-book, before I learned to 
make any better use of it, and became, by frequent perusal, 
indelibly imprinted on my memory. Wallace wight, and 
Welwood's memoirs of the history of England, were my next 
acquisitions. Enough of egotism ! yet all these circum- 
stances contributed to form that taste for solid reading which 
first attracted the attention of my invaluable friend. 

* Col. Mungo Campbell was killed leading on the attack of Fort St. 
Anne, at the battle of White Plains, anno 1777. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 199 

I cannot quit Ontario without giving a slight sketch of the 
manner in which it was occupied and governed while I was 
there and afterwards, were it but to give young soldiers a hint 
how they may best use their time and resources, so as to shun 
the indolence and ennui they are often liable to in such situa- 
tions. The 55th had by this time acquired several English 
officers ; but with regard to the men, it might be considered 
as a Scotch regiment, and was indeed originally such, being 
raised but a very few years before in the neighborhood of 
Stirling. There were small detachments in other forts ; but 
the greatest part were in this, commanded by Major (after- 
wards Colonel) Duncan, of Lundie, elder brother of the late 
Lord Duncan of Camperdown. He was an experienced offi- 
cer, possessed of considerable military science, learned, hu- 
mane, and judicious, yet obstinate, and somewhat of a humor- 
ist withal. Wherever he went, a respectable library went 
with him. Though not old, he was gouty and warworn, and 
therefore allowably carried about many comforts and con- 
veniences that others could not warrantably do. The fort 
was a large place, built entirely of earth and great logs ; I 
mean the walls and ramparts, for the barracks were of wood, 
and cold and comfortless. The cutting down the vast quan- 
tity of wood used in this building had, however, cleared much 
of the fertile ground by which the fort was surrounded. The 
lake abounded with excellent fish and varieties of water-fowl, 
while deer and every kind of game were numerous in the 
surrounding woods. All these advantages, however, were 
now shut up by the rigors of winter. The officers were all 
very young men, brought from school or college to the army ; 
and since the dreadful specimen of war which they had met 
with on. their first outset, at the lines of Ticonderoga, they 
had gone through all possible hardships. After a march up 
the St. Lawrence, and then through Canada here, — a march, 
indeed, (considering the season, and the no road,) worthy the 
hero of Pultowa, — they were stationed in this new-built gar- 
rison, far from every trace of civilization. These young sol- 
diers were, however, excellent subjects for the forming hand 
of Major Duncan. As I have said on a former occasion of 
others, if they were not improved, they were not spoiled, and 
what little they knew was good. 

The major, by the manner in which he treated them, 



200 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

seemed to consider them as his sons or pupils ; only he might 
be called an austere parent, or a rigid instructor. But this 
semblance of severity was necessary to form his pupils to 
habitual veneration. Partaking every day of their convivial 
enjoyments, and showing every hour some proof of paternal 
care and kindness ; all this was necessary to keep them 
within due limits. Out of regard to their own welfare he 
wanted no more of their love than was consistent with saluta- 
ry fear ; and yet made himself so necessary to them, that 
nothing could be so terrible to them as, by any neglect or 
imprudence, to alienate him. He messed with them, but 
lived in a house of his own. This was a very singular build- 
ing divided into two apartments ; one of which was a bed- 
room, in which many stores found place, the other a break- 
fasting-parlor, and, at the same time, a library. Here were 
globes, quadrants, mathematical instruments, flutes, dumb- 
bells, and chessboards ; here, in short, was a magazine of 
instruction and amusement for the colonel's pupils, that is, 
for all the garrison. (Cornelius Cuyler, who had now joined 
the regiment, as youngest ensign, was included in this num- 
ber.) This Scythian dwelling, for such it seemed, was made 
entirely of wood, and fixed upon wheels of the same material, 
so that it could be removed from one part of the parade to 
another, as it frequently was. So slight a tenement, where 
the winters were intensely cold, was ill calculated for a gouty 
patient : for this, however, he found a remedy ; the boards, 
which formed the walls of his apartment, being covered with 
deer-skins, and a most ample bear-skin spread on the floor by 
way of carpet. When once the winter set fully in, Oswego 
became a perfect Siberia, cut off" even from all intelligence 
of what was passing in the world. But the major did not 
allow this interval to waste in sloth or vacancy ; he seemed 
rather to take advantage of the exclusion of all exterior ob- 
jects. His library was select and soldierlike. It consisted 
of numerous treatises on the military art, ancient and modern 
history, biography, &c., besides the best authors in various 
sciences, of which I only recollect geography and the mathe- 
matics. All the young men were set to read such books as 
suited their difl'erent inclinations and capacities. The subal- 
terns breakfasted with their commander in rotation every day. 
three or four at a time ; after breakfast he kept them, perhaps 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 201 

two hours, examining them on the subject of their different 
studies. Once a week he had a supper-party for such of the 
captains as were then in the fort ; and once a week they en- 
tertained him in the same manner. To these parties such of 
the subalterns as distinguished themselves by diligence and 
proficiency, were invited. Whoever was negligent, he made 
him the subject of sarcasms so pointed at one time, and at 
another so ludicrous, that there was no enduring it. The 
dread of severe punishment could not operate more forcibly. 
Yet he was so just, so impartial, so free from fickleness and 
favoritism, and so attentive to their health, their amusements, 
and their economy, that every individual felt him necessary 
to his comfort, and looked up to him as his " guide, philoso- 
pher, and friend." 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

Benefit of select reading. — Hunting excursion. 

Unspeakable benefit and improvement were derived from 
the course of reading I have described, which, in the absence 
of other subjects, furnished daily topics of discussion, thus 
impressing it more forcibly on the mind. 

The advantages of this course of social study, directed by 
a Mentor so respected, v/ere such, that I have often heard it 
asserted that these unformed youths derived more solid im- 
provement from it than from all their former education. Read- 
ing is one thing ; but they learned to think and to converse. 
The result of these acquirements served to impress on my 
mind what I formerly observed with regard to Madame, that 
a promiscuous multitude of books always within reach re- 
tards the acquisition of useful knowledge. It is like having 
a great number of acquaintances and few friends ; one of the 
consequences of the latter is to know much of exterior appear- 
ances, of modes and manners, but little of nature and genuine 
character. By running over numbers of books without selec- 
tion, in a desultory manner, people, in the same way, get a 



202 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

general superficial idea of the varietieis and nature of different 
styles, but do not comprehend or retain the matter with the 
same accuracy as those who have read a few books, by the 
best authors, over and over with diligent attention. I speak 
now of those one usually meets with ; not of those command- 
ing minds, whose intuitive research seizes on every thing 
worth retaining, and rejects the rest as naturally as one throws 
away the rind when possessed of the kernel. 

Our young students got through the winter pretty well ; 
and it is particularly to be observed, that there was no such 
thing as a quarrel heard of among them. Their time was 
spent in a regular succession of useful pursuits, which pre- 
vented them from risking the dangers that often occur in such 
places ; for, in general, idleness and confinement to the same 
circle of society produce such a fermentation in the mind, 
and such neglect of ceremonial observances, which are the 
barriers of civility, that quarrels and duels more readily occur 
in such situations than in any other. But when spring drew 
near, this paternal commander found it extremely difficult to 
rein in the impatience of the youths to plunge into the woods 
to hunt. There were such risks to encounter, of unknown 
morasses, wolves, and hostile Indians, that it was dangerous 
to indulge them. At last, when the days began to lengthen, 
in the end of February, a chosen party, on whose hardihood 
and endurance the major could depend, were permitted to go 
on a regular hunting excursion in the Indian fashion. This 
had become desirable on different accounts, the garrison 
having been for some time before entirely subsisted on salt 
provision. Sheep and cows were out of the question, there 
not being one of either within forty miles. A Captain Ham- 
ilton, a practised wood-ranger, commanded this party, who 
were clad almost like Indians, and armed in the same man- 
ner. They were accompanied by a detachment of ten men ; 
some of whom having been prisoners with the Indians, were 
more particularly qualified to engage in this adventure. They 
were allowed four or five days to stay, and provided with a 
competent supply of bear-skins, blankets, &c., to make their 
projected wigwams comfortable. The allotted time expired, 
and we all began to quarrel with our salt provisions, and to 
long for the promised venison. Another, and yet another 
day passed, when our longing was entirely absorbed in the 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 203 

apprehensions we began to entertain. Volunteers now pre- 
sented themselves to go in search of the lost hunters ; but 
those offers were, for good reasons, rejected, and every coun- 
tenance began to lengthen with fears we were unwilling to 
express to each other. The major, conjecturing the hunters 
might have been bewildered in those endless woods, ordered 
the cannon to be fired at noon, and again at midnight, for 
their direction. On the eighth day, when suspense was 
wound up to the highest pitch, the party were seen approach- 
ing, and they entered in triumph, loaded with sylvan spoils ; 
among which were many strange birds and beasts. I recol- 
lect, as the chief objects of my admiration, a prodigious swan, 
a wild turkey, and a young porcupine. Venison abounded, 
and the supply was both plentiful and seasonable. 

" Spring returned with its showers," and converted our 
Siberia, frozen amd forlorn, and shut out from human inter- 
course, into an uncultured Eden, rich in all t"he majestic 
charms of sublime scenery, and prim.eval beauty and fertility. 
It is in her central retreat, amidst the mighty waters of the 
west, that nature seems in solitary grandeur to have chosen 
her most favored habitation, remote from the ocean, whose 
waves bear the restless sons of Europe on their voyages of 
discovery, invasion, and intrusion. The coasts of America 
are indeed comparatively poor, except merely on the banks 
of great rivers, though the universal veil of evergreens con- 
ceals much sterility from strangers. But it is in the depth of 
those forests, and around those sea-like lakes, that nature 
has been profusely kind, and discovers more charms the more 
her shady veil is withdrawn from her noble features. If ever 
the fond illusions of poets and philosophers — that Atalantis, 
that new Arcadia, that safe and serene Utopia, where ideal 
quiet and happiness have so often charmed in theory ; if ever 
this dream of social bliss, in some new-planted region, is to 
be realized, this unrivalled scene of grandeur and fertility bids 
fairest to be the place of its abode. Here the climate is 
serene and equal ; the rigorous winters that brace the frame, 
and call forth the powers of mind and body to prepare for its 
approach, are succeeded by a spring so rapid, the exuberance 
of vernal bloom bursts forth so suddenly, after the disappear- 
ance of those deep snows, which cherish and fructify the 
earth, that the change seems like a magical delusion. 



204 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

The major saw every one enraptured, like people suddenly- 
let out of prison ; and the whole garrison seemed ripe for 
running wild through the woods, in pursuit of innumerable 
birds of passage, which had come on the wings of the genial 
south to resume their wonted abodes by the great lakes, 
where they hatch among swamps and islands without number. 



CHAPTER XLVII. 

Gardening and Agriculture. — Return of the Author to AlToany. 

The major rejoiced in their joy without having the least 
intention of indulging them either in the gay idleness, or the 
wild sports which the season inspired. He had been their 
Mentor all winter, and was now about to commence their 
Agricola. 

When giving an account of the garrison I should have 
mentioned a company, or two, I do not remember whether, of 
engineers, the officers of which, from their superior intelli- 
gence, were ,a great acquisition to the society. To these 
friendly coadjutors the major communicated his plans, which 
they readily adopted. Among his concealed stores were In- 
dian-corn, peas, and beans in abundance, and all kinds of gar- 
den seeds. Before the season opened he had arranged with 
these engineers the plan of a large garden, bowling-green, 
and enclosed field, for the use of these and all succeeding 
troops. This was a bold attempt when one considers that you 
might as well look for a horse in Venice as in Oswego. No 
such animal had ever penetrated so far. A single cow, be- 
longing to the sutler, was the only tame creature, dogs and 
cats excepted, to be seen here. But there was a great stock 
of palisadoes, which had been cut for the garrison, lying 
ready ; and their pioneers and workmen still remaining there, 
the new erection being scarce complete. The new project 
was received with " curses not loud but deep." Were they 
to go all out to plod and drudge for others, who would neither 
pay nor thank them ? for at most, they argued, they should 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 205 

Stay only a year, and reap very little indeed of the fruit of 
their labors. 

The major's plans, however, were deep-laid ; matters wore 
a peaceable aspect ; and there was no knowing how long 
they might remain there. Except shooting in the woods, or 
fishing, they were without business, pleasures, or varied so- 
ciety. He feared the men would degenerate into savage 
wildness, and their officers into that sordid indifference, 
which is, too often, the consequence of being at the early 
season of life without an aim or a pursuit. He wished to 
promote a common interest, and habits social and domestic. 
He wished, too, that they might make some advantage of this 
temporary banishment, to lay by a little store to eke out their 
pittance when they returned to more expensive places ; in 
short, he wished to give them habits of regular economy, 
which should be useful to them ever after. He showed them 
his plans; gave each of them a department in overseeing the 
execution of them ; and, for that purpose, each had so many 
men allotted to his command. He made it obvious to them, 
that, as the summer was merely to be occupied in gardening 
and the chase, the parade of military dress was both expen- 
sive and unnecessary. In the store was a great surplus of 
soldiers' coats. These had been sent from Europe to supply 
the regiment, which had been greatly diminished in number 
by the fatal lines, and the succeeding hard march. The 
major ordered the regimental tailor to fit these as a kind of 
short undress frock to the officers, to whom correspondent 
little round hats, very different from their regimental ones, 
were allotted. Thus equipped, and animated by the spirit 
of him who ruled their minds with unconscious yet unlimited 
sway, these young Cincinnati set out, nothing loath, on their 
horticultural enterprise. All difficulties soon vanished before 
them ; and, in a very few days, they became enthusiastic in 
the pursuit of this new object. That large and fertile portion 
of ground, which had been cleared of the timber with which 
the garrison was built, was given in charge to a sagacious 
old sergeant, who knew something of husbandry, and who 
very soon had it enclosed in a palisade, dug up, and planted 
with beans, peas, and Indian-corn, the food of future pigs 
and poultry. To the officers more interesting tasks were al- 
lotted. There was more than one gardener found in the 

18 



20G SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

regiment ; and here the engineers and pioneers were particu- 
larly useful. The major, who had predestined a favorite spot 
for his ample garden, had it partially cleared by cutting the 
winter firing of the garrison from it. Where a mulberry, a 
wild-plum, or cherry-tree was peculiarly well-shaped or large, 
he marked it to remain, as well as some lofty planes and 
chesnuts ; and when the shrubs were grubbed up in spring, 
he left many beautiful ones peculiar to the country. To see 
the sudden creation of this garden, one would think the ge- 
nius of the place obeyed the wand of an enchanter ; but it is 
not every gardener who can employ some hundred men. A 
summer-house in a tree, a fish-pond, and a gravel-walk, were 
finished before the end of May, besides having committed to 
the earth great quantities of every vegetable production known 
in our best gardens. These vegetables throve beyond belief or 
example. The size of the cabbages, the cucumbers, and melons, 
produced here, was incredible. They used, in the following 
years, to send them down to astonish us at x\lbany. On the 
continent they were not equalled, except in another military 
garden, which emulation had produced at Niagara. The major's 
economical views were fully answered. Pigs and poultry in 
abundance were procured, and supported by their Indian-corn 
crop ; they even procured cows, and made hay in the islands 
to feed them. The provisions allowed them by the public 
afforded a sufficiency of flour, butter, and salt meat, as also 
rice. The lake afforded quantities of excellent fish, much of 
which the soldiers dried for winter consumption ; and fruit 
and vegetables they had in profusion from their gardens. In 
short, they all lived in a kind of rough luxury, and were en- 
abled to save much of their pay. The example spread to all 
the line of forts ; such is the power of one active liberal mind 
pursuing its object with undeviating steadiness. 

We are now about to leave Ontario ; but perhaps the reader 
is not willing to take a final farewell of Colonel Duncan. The 
Indian war then, which broke out after the peace of 1762, 
occasioned the detention of the regiment in America till 1765 ; 
and during all that time this paternal commander continued 
with six companies of the regiment at Ontario, improving 
both the soil and the inhabitants. He then returned with the 
regiment, of which he had become lieutenant-colonel, to Ire- 
land. Soon after he retired from the army, and took up his 



AND SCEXERY IN AMERICA. 207 

residence on the family estate of Lundie, having previously 
married the woman of his heart, who had engaged his early 
affections, and corresponded with him during his long absence. 
Here he was as happy as a shattered invalid could be, highly 
respected by the neighborhood, and frequently visited by his 
old pupils, who still regarded him with warm attachment. He 
died childless, and was succeeded by the admiral, on whose 
merit it is needless to expatiate ; for who has forgotten the 
victor of Camperdown ? 

A company of the 55th was this summer ordered to occupy 
the fort at Albany. This was commanded by a sagacious 
veteran called Winepress. My father did not exactly belong 
to this company, but he wished to return to Albany, where 
he was known and liked ; and the colonel thought, from 
his steadiness and experience, he would be particularly 
useful in paying the detached parties, and purchasing for the 
regiment such stores as they might have occasion for. We 
set out in our batteaux ; and I consoled myself for not only 
leaving Oswego, but (what was nearer my heart) a tame 
partridge and six pigeons, by the hopes of wandering through 
Woodcreek, and sleeping in the woods. In both these par- 
ticulars I was disappointed. Our boats being lighter, made 
better way, and we were received in new^ettlements a little 
distant from the river. The most important occurrence to 
me happened the first day. On that evening we returned to 
Fort Bruerton ; I found Captain Campbell delighted with my 
reading, my memory, and my profound admiration of the 
friendship betwixt David and Jonathan. We stayed the most 
of the next day. I was much captivated with the copper- 
plates in an edition of Paradise Lost, which, on that account, 
he had given me to admire. When I was coming away he 
said to me, " Keep that book, my dear child ; I foretell that 
the time will come when you will take pleasure in it." Never 
did a present produce such joy and gratitude. I thought I 
was dreaming, and looked at it a hundred times, before I 
could believe any thing so fine was really my own. I tried 
to read it ; and almost cried with vexation when I found I 
could not understand it. At length I quitted it in despair ; 
yet always said to myself, I shall be wiser next year. 



208 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 

Madame's family and soeiety described. 

The next year (1762) came, and found me at Albany; if 
not wiser, more knowing. Again I was shut up in a fort, 
solemn and solitary. I had no companion, and was never 
allowed to go out, except with my mother, and that was very 
seldom indeed. All the line forenoons I sat and sewed ; and 
when others went to play in the evening, I was very often 
sent up to a large waste room, to get a long task by heart of 
something very grave and repulsive. In this waste room, 
however, lay an old tattered dictionary, Bailey's, I think, 
which proved a treasure to me, the very few books we had, 
being all religious or military. I had returned to my Milton, 
which I conned so industriously that I got it almost by heart, 
as far as I went; yet took care to go no farther than I under- 
stood. To make out this point, when any one encouraged 
me by speaking kindly to me, I was sure to ask the meaning 
of some word or ^lirase ; and when I found people were not 
all willing or able to gratify me, I at length had recourse to 
my waste room and tattered dictionary, which I found a per- 
petual fountain of knowledge. Consequently, the waste 
room, formerly a gloomy prison, which I thought of with 
horror, beciame now the scene of all my enjoyment ; and the 
moment I was dismissed from my task, I flew to it with anti- 
cipated delight ; for there were my treasures, Milton and the 
ragged dictionary, which were now become the light of my 
eyes. I studied the dictionary with indefatigable diligence ; 
which I began now to consider as very entertaining. I was 
extremely sorry for the fallen angels, deeply interested in 
their speeches, and so well acquainted with their names, that 
I could have called the roll of them with all the ease imagin- 
able. Time ran on, I was eight years old, and quite unedu- 
cated, except reading and plain- work. When company came 
I was considered as in the way, and sent up to my waste 
room ; but here lay my whole pleasure, for I had neither 
companions nor amusement. It was, however, talked of that 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 



209 



I should go to a convent, at Trois Rivieres, in Canada, where 
several officers had sent their daughters to be educated. 

The fame of Aunt Schuyler every now and then reached 
my ears, and sunk deep in my mind. To see her I thought 
was a happiness too great for me ; and I was continually 
drawing pictures of her to myself. Meanwhile the 17th 
regiment arrived, and a party of them took possession of the 
fort. During this interim peace had been proclaimed ; and 
the 55th regiment were under orders for Britain. 

My father, not being satisfied with the single apartment 
allotted to him by the new-comers, removed to the town ; 
where a friend of his, a Scotch merchant, gave him a lodg- 
ing in his own house, next to that very Madame Schuyler 
who had been so long my daily thought and nightly dream. 
We had not been long there when aunt heard that my father 
was a good, plain, upright man, without pretensions, but very 
well principled. She sent a married lady, the wife of her 
favorite nephew, who resided with her at the time, to ask us 
to spend the evening with her. I think I have not been on 
any occasion more astonished, than when, with no little awe 
and agitation, I came into the presence of Madame. She 
was sitting, and filled a great chair, from which she seldom 
moved. Her aspect was composed, and her manner, such 
as was at first more calculated to inspire respect than con- 
ciliate afl^ection. Not having the smallest solicitude about 
what people thought of her, and having her mind generally 
occupied with matters of weighty concern, the first expres- 
sion of her kindness seemed rather a lofty courtesy than at- 
tractive afi'ability ; but she shone out by degrees, and she was 
sure eventually to please every one worth pleasing, her con- 
versation was so rich, so various, so informing ; every thing 
she said bore such a stamp of reality ; her character had such 
a grasp in it. Her expressions, not from art and study, but 
from the clear perceptions of her sound and strong mind, 
were powerful, distinct, and exactly adapted to the occasion. 
You saw her thoughts as they occurred to her mind, without 
the usual bias rising from either a fear to offend, or a wish 
to please. This was one of the secrets in which lay the 
singular power of her conversation. When ordinary people 
speak to you, your mind wanders in search of the motives 
that prompt their discourse, or the views and prejudices which 

18* 



210 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

bias it : when those who excite (and perhaps solicit) admira- 
tion talk, you are secretly asking yourself whether they mean 
to inform or dazzle you. All this interior canvass vanished 
before the evident truth and unstudied ease of aunt's discourse. 
On a nearer knowledge, too, you found she was much more 
intent to serve, than please you, and too much engrossed by 
her endeavors to do so, to stop and look round for your grati-' 
tude, which she heeded just as Uttle as your admiration. In 
short, she informed, enlightened, and served you, without 
levying on you any tribute whatever, except the information 
you could give in return. I describe her appearance as it 
then struck me, and, once for all, her manners and conver- 
sation, as I thought of them when I was older, and knew 
better how to distinguish and appreciate. Every thing about 
her was calculated to increase the impression of respect and 
admiration, which, from the earliest dawn of reflection, I had 
been taught to entertain of her. Her house was the most 
spacious, and best furnished, I had ever entered. The fam- 
ily pictures, and scripture paintings, were to me particularly 
awful and impressive. I compared them to the models which 
had before existed in my imagination, and was delighted or 
mortified, as I found they did or did not resemble them. 

The family with which she was then surrounded awakened 
a more than common interest. Her favorite nephew, the 
eldest son of her much-beloved sister, had, by his father's 
desire, entered into partnership in a great commercial house 
in New York. Smitten with the uncommon beauty of a 
young lady of seventeen, from Rhode Island, he had married 
her without wailing for the consent of his relations. Had 
he lived in Albany, and connected himself with one of his 
fellow-citizens, bred up in frugal simplicity, this step might 
have been easily got over. But an expensive and elegant 
style of living iDegan already to take place in New York ; 
which was, from the residence of the governor and command- 
er-in-chief, become the seat of a little court. The lady 
whom Philip had married, was of a family originally Scotch, 
and derived her descent at no great distance from one of the 
noblest families in that country.* Gay, witty, and very en- 
gaging, beloved and indulged, beyond measure, by a fond 

* Earl of Crawford's. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 211 

husband, who was generous and good-natured to excess, 
this young beauty became " the glass of fashion, and the 
mould of form." And the house of this amiable couple was 
the resort of all that was gay and elegant, and the centre of 
attraction to strangers. The mayor, who was a person sin- 
gularly judicious, and most impartial in the affection which 
he distributed among his large family, saw clearly that the 
young people trusted too much to the wealth he was known 
to possess, and had got into a very expensive style of living, 
which, on examining their affairs, he did not think likely to 
be long supported by the profits of the business in which his 
son was engaged. The probable consequence of a failure, 
he saw, would so far involve him as to injure his own family ; 
this he prevented. Peace was daily expected ; and the very 
existence of the business in which he was engaged depended 
on the army, to which his house was wont to supply every 
thing necessary. He clearly foresaw the withdrawing of 
this army ; and that the habits of open hospitality and ex- 
pensive living would remain when the sources of their pres- 
ent supplies were dried up. He insisted on his son's entirely 
quitting this line, and retiring to Albany. He loaded a ship 
on his own account for the West Indies, and sent the young 
man as supercargo, to dispose of the lading. As housekeep- 
ing was given up in New York, and not yet resumed in Al- 
bany, this young creature had only the option of returning 
to the large family she had left, or going to her father-in-law's. 
Aunt Schuyler, ever generous and considerate, had every 
allowance to make for the high spirit and fine feelings of this 
inexperienced young creature, and invited her, with her little 
daughter, to remain with her till her husband's return. No- 
thing could be more pleasing than to witness the maternal 
tenderness, and delicate confidence, which appeared in the 
behavior of Madame to this new inmate, whose fine counte- 
nance seemed animated with the liveliest gratitude, and the 
utmost solicitude to please her revered benefactress. The 
child was a creature not to be seen with indifference. The 
beauty and understanding that appeared full blown in her 
mother, seemed budding with the loveliest promise in the 
young Catalina, a child, whom, to this day, I cannot recollect 
without an emotion of tenderness. She was then about three 
years old. Besides these interesting strangers, there was a 



212 RTIETrnES OF MANNEHS 

grand-niece whom she had brought up. Such was her family 
when I first knew it. In the course of the evening dreams 
began to be talked of ; and every one in turn gave their opin- 
ion with regard to that wonderful mode in which the mind 
acts independent of the senses, asserting its immaterial na- 
ture in a manner the most conclusive. I mused and listened, 
till at length the spirit of quotation (which very early began 
to haunt me) moved me to repeat, from Paradise Lost, 

" When nature rests, 
Oft In her absence mimic fancy wakes, 
To imitate her, bat misjoining shapes, 
Wild work produces oft." 

I sat silent when my bolt was shot ; but so did not Madame. 
Astonished to hear her favorite author quoted readily by so 
mere a child, she attached much more importance to the cir- 
cumstance than it deserved ; so much, indeed, that long after 
she used to repeat it to strangers in my presence, by way of 
accounting for the great fancy she had taken to me. These 
partial repetitions of hers fixed this lucky quotation indelibly 
in my mind. Any person who has ever been in love, and 
has unexpectedly heard that sweetest of all music, the praise 
of his beloved, may judge of my sensations when Madame began 
to talk with enthusiasm of Milton, The bard of Paradise was 
indeed " the dweller of my secret soul ;" and it never was 
my fortune before to meet with any one who understood or 
relished him. I knew very well that the divine spirit was 
his Urania. But I took his invocation quite literally, and 
had not the smallest doubt of his being as much inspired as 
ever Isaiah was. This was a very hopeful opening ; yet I 
was much too simple and too humble to expect that I should 
excite the attention of Madame. My ambition aimed at noth- 
ing higher than winning the heart of the sweet Catalina ; and 
I thought if heaven had given me such another little sister, 
and enabled me to teach her, in due time, to relish Milton, I 
should have nothing left to ask. 

Time went on ; we were neighbors, and became intimate 
in the family. I was beloved by Catalina, caressed by her 
charming mother, and frequently noticed by aunt, whom I 
very much inclined to love, were it not that it seemed to me 
as if, in so doing, I should aspire too high. Yet in my visits 



AND SCENERV IN AMERICA. 213 

to her, where I had now a particular low chair in a corner 
assigned me, I had great enjoyment of various kinds. First, 
I met there with all those strangers or inhabitants who were 
particularly respectable for their character or conversation. 
Then I was witness to a thousand acts of beneficence that 
charmed me, I could not well say why, not having learned to 
analyze my feelings. Then 1 met with the Spectator arid a 
few other suitable books, which I read over and over with 
unwearied diligence, not having the least idea of treating a 
book as a plaything, to be thrown away when the charm of 
novelty was past. I was by degrees getting into favor with 
Aunt Schuyler, when a new arrival for awhile suspended the 
growing intimacy. I allude to the lieutenant-colonel of my 
father's regiment, who had removed from Crown-Point to Al- 
bany. 

The colonel was a married man, whose wife, like himself, 
had passed her early days in a course of frivolous gayety. 
They were now approaching the decline of life, and finding 
nothing pleasing in the retrospect nor flattering in the pros- 
pect, time hung on their hands. Where nothing round them 
was congenial to their habits, they took a fancy to have me 
frequently with them as matter of amusement. They had had 
children, and when they died their mutual affection died with 
them. They had had a fortune, and when it was spent, all 
their pleasures were exhausted. They were by this- time 
drawing out the vapid dregs of a tasteless existence, without 
energy to make themselves feared, or those gentle and amia- 
ble qualities which attract love : yet they were not stained 
with gross vices, and were people of character as the world 
goes. 

What a new world had I entered into ! From the quiet 
simplicity of my home, where 1 heard nothing but truth, and 
saw nothing but innocence ; and from my good friend's re- 
spectable mansion, where knowledge reflected light upon vir- 
tue, and where the hours were too few for their occupation ; 
to be a daily witness of the manner in which these listless 
ghosts of departed fashion and gayety drank up the bitter lees 
of misused time, fortune, and capacity. Never was lesson 
more impressive ; and young as I was, I did not fail to mark 
the contrast and draw the obvious inference. From this 
hopeful school I was set free the following summer, (when I 



214 SKETCHES Of MANNERS 



had entered on my ninth year,) by the colonel's return to Eng- 
land. They were, indeed, kind to me ; but the gratitude I 
could not but feel, was a sentiment independent of attach- 
ment, and early taught me how difficult it is, nay, how pain- 
ful, to disjoin esteem from gratitude. 



CHAPTER XLIX. 

Sir Jeffrey Amherst. — Mutiny. — Indian War. 

At this time (1764) peace had been for some time estab- 
lished in Europe ; but the ferment and agitation which even 
the lees and sediments of war kept up in the northern colo- 
nies, and the many regulations requisite to establish quiet and 
security in the new-acquired Canadian territory, required all 
the care and prudence of the commander-in-chief, and no lit- 
tle time. At this crisis, for such it proved. Sir Jeffrey, after- 
wards Lord Amherst, came up to Albany. A mutiny had 
broke out among the troops on account of withholding the 
provisions they used to receive in time of actual war ; and 
this discontent was much aggravated by their finding them- 
selves treated with a coldness, amounting to aversion, by the 
people of the country ; who now forgot past services, and 
showed in all transactions a spirit of dislike bordering on hos- 
tility to their protectors, on whom they no longer felt them- 
selves dependent. 

Sir Jeffrey, however, was received like a prince at Alban}^, 
respect for his private character conquering the anti-military 
prejudice. The commander-in-chief was in those days a 
great man on the continent, having, on account of the distance 
from the seat of government, much discretionary power in- 
trusted to him. Never was it more safely lodged than in the 
hands of this judicious veteran, whose comprehension of 
mind, impartiality, steadiness, and close application to busi- 
ness, peculiarly fitted him for his important station. At his 
table all strangers were entertained with the utmost liberality ; 
while his own singular temperance, early hours, and strict 
morals, were peculiarly calculated to render him popular 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 215 

among the old inhabitants. Here I witnessed an impres- 
sive spectacle ; — the guard-house was in the middle of the 
street, opposite to Madame's ; there was a guard extraordi- 
nary mounted in honor of Sir Jeffrey ; at the hour of chang- 
ing it all the soldiery in the fort assembled there, and laid 
down their arms, refusing to take them up again. I shall 
never forget the pale and agitated countenances of the offi- 
cers ; they being too well assured that it was a thing pre- 
concerted ; which was actually the case, for at Crown-Point 
and Quebec the same thing was done on the same day. Sir 
Jeffrey came down, and made a calm, dispassionate speech to 
them, promising them a continuance of their privileges till 
further orders from home, and offering pardon to the whole, 
with the exception of a few ringleaders, whose lives, how- 
ever, were spared. This gentle dealing had its due effect ; 
but at Quebec the mutiny assumed a most alarming aspect, 
and had more serious consequences, though it was in the end 
quelled. All this time Sir Jeffrey's visits to Madame had 
been frequent, both out of respect to her character and con- 
versation, and from a view to reap the benefit of her local 
knowledge on an approaching emergency. This was a spirit 
of disaffection, then only suspected among the Indians on the 
Upper Lakes, which soon after broke suddenly out into open 
hostility. In consequence of her opinion, he summoned Sir 
W. Johnson to concert some conciliatory measures. But the 
commencement of the war at this very crisis detained him 
longer, to arrange with General Bradstreet and Sir William 
the operations of the ensuing campaign. 

This war broke out very opportunely in some respects. It 
afforded a pretext for granting those indulgences to the troops, 
which it would otherwise have been impolitic to give and un- 
safe to withhold. It furnished occupation for an army too 
large to lie idle so far from the source of authority ; which 
could not yet be safely withdrawn till matters were on a 
raore stable fooiiiag ; and it made the inhabitants once more 
sensible of their protection. Madame had predicted this 
event, knowing better than any one how the affections of 
these tribes might be lost or won. She was well aware 
of the probable consequences of the negligence with which 
they were treated, since the subjection of Canada made us 
consider them as no longer capable of giving us trouble 



216 SKETCHES OF MAxVNERa 

Pondiac, chief of one of those nations who inhabited the 
borders of the great lakes, possessed a mind of that class 
which break through all disadvantages to assert their innate 
superiority. 

The rise and conduct of this war, were I able to narrate 
them distinctly, the reader would perhaps scarce have patience 
to attend to, indistinct as they must appear, retraced from my 
broken recollections. Could I, however, do justice to the 
bravery, the conduct and magnanimity in some instances, 
and the singular address and stratagem in others, which this 
extraordinary person displayed in the course of it, the power 
of untutored intellect would appear incredible to those who 
never saw man but in an artificial or degraded state, exalted 
by science, or debased by conscious ignorance and inferior- 
ity. During the late war, Pondiac occupied a central situ- 
ation, bounded on each side by the French and English ter- 
ritories. His uncommon sagacity taught him to make the 
most of his local advantages, and of that knowledge of the 
European character which resulted from this neighborhood. 
He had that sort of consequence which, in the last century, 
raised the able and politic princes of the house of Savoy to 
the throne they have since enjoyed. Pondiac held a petty 
balance between two great contending powers. Even the 
privilege of passing through his territories was purchased 
with presents, promises, and flatteries ; while the court which 
was paid to this wily warrior, to secure his alliance, or at 
least his neutrality, made him too sensible of his own con- 
sequence, it gave him a near view of our policy and modes 
of life. He often passed some time, on various pretexts, by 
turns at Montreal and in the English camp. The subjection 
of Canada proved fatal to his power, and he could no longer 
play the skilful game between both nations which had been 
so long carried on. The general advantage of his tribe is 
always the uppermost thought with an Indian. The liberal 
presents which he had received from both parties, afforded 
him the means of confederating with distant nations, of whose 
alliance he thought to profit in his meditated hostilities. 

There were at that time many tribes, then unknown to 
Europeans, on the banks of Lake Superior, to whom fire- 
arms and other British goods were captivating novelties. 
When the French insidiously built the fort of Detroit, and 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 217 

the still more detached one of Michillimackinac, on bounds 
hitherto undefined, they did it on the footing of having secure 
places of trade, not to overawe the natives, but to protect 
themselves from the English. They amply rewarded them 
for permission to erect these fortresses, and purchased at any 
expense that friendship from them, without which it would 
have been impossible to have maintained their ground in 
these remote regions. All this liberality and flattery, though 
merely founded on self-interest, had its eff"ect ; and the 
French, who are ever versatile and accommodating, who 
wore the Huron dress, and spoke the Huron language, when 
they had any purpose to serve, were without doubt the fa- 
vored nation. We, too apt to despise all foreigners, and not 
over-complaisant, even when we have a purpose to serve, 
came with a high hand to occupy those forts which we con- 
sidered as our right, after the conquest of Canada, but which 
had been always held by the more crafty French as an in- 
dulgence. These troops, without ceremony, appropriated, 
and, following Major Duncan's example, cultivated all the 
fertile lands around Detroit, as far as fancy or convenience 
led them. The lands around Ontario were in a difl'erent 
predicament, being regularly purchased by Sir William John- 
son. In consequence of the peace which had taken place 
the year before, all the garrisons were considered as in a 
state of perfect security. 

Pondiac, in the mean time, conducted himself with the ut- 
most address, concealing the indignation which brooded in 
his mind, under the semblance of the greatest frankness and 
good humor. Having the command of various languages, 
and being most completely master of his temper and coun- 
tenance, he was at home everywhere, and paid frequent 
friendly visits to Detroit, near which, in the finest country 
imaginable, was his abode. He frequently dined with the 
mess, and sent them fish and venison. Unlike other In- 
dians, his manner appeared frank and communicative, which 
opened the minds of others, and favored his deep designs. 
He was soon master, through their careless conversation, of 
all he wished to know relative to the stores, resources, and 
intentions of the troops. Madame, who well knew the In- 
dian character in general, and was no stranger to the genius 
and abilities of Pondiac, could not be satisfied with the 

19 



218 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

manner in which he was neglected on the one hand, nor 
with his easy admission to the garrison on the other. She 
always said they should either make him their friend, or 
know him to be their foe. 

In the mean while, no one could be more busy than this 
politic warrior. While the Indians were in strict alliance 
with the French, they had their wigwams and their Indian 
corn within sight of the fort, lived in a considerable kind 
of village on the border of the lake, and had a daily inter- 
course of traffic and civility with the troops. There was a 
large esplanade before the garrison, where the Indians and 
soldiers sometimes socially played at ball together. Pondiac 
had a double view in his intended hostility. The Canadian 
priests, with the wonted restless, intriguing spirit of their 
nation, fomented the discontents of the Indians. They per- 
suaded them, and perhaps flattered themselves, that if they 
(the Indians) would seize the chain of forts, the Grand Mon- 
arque would send a fleet to reconquer Canada, and guaran- 
ty all the forts he should take, to Pondiac. Upon this he 
did not altogether depend : yet he thought if he could sur- 
prise Detroit, and seize a vessel which was expected up 
from Oswego with ammunition and stores, he might easily 
take the other small vessels, and so command the lake. 
This would be shut up by ice for the winter, and it would 
take no little time to build on its banks another fleet, the 
only means by which an army could again approach the 
place. I will not attempt to lead my reader through all the 
intricacies of an Indian war, (entirely such,) and therefore, 
of all wars the most incomprehensible in its progress, and 
most difficult in its terms. The result of two master-strokes 
of stratagem, with which it opened, are such as are curious 
enough, however, to find a place in this detail. 



CHAPTER L. 

Pondiac. — Sir Robert D 

All the distant tribes were to join on hearing Pondiac was 
in possession of the fort. Many of those nearest, in the mean 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 219 

while, were to lie in the neighboring woods, armed, and ready 
to rush out on the discharge of a cannon, on that day which 
was meant to be fatal to the garrison. In the intended mas- 
sacre, however, the artillery train were to be spared, that they 
might work the guns. Near the fort lived a much-admired 
Indian beauty, who was known in the garrison by the name, 
or title rather, of the Queen of Hearts. She not only spoke 
French, but dressed not inelegantly in the European manner, 
and being sprightly and captivating, was encouraged by Pon- 
diac to go into the garrison on Various pret^ts. The advan- 
tage the Indian chief meant to derive from this stratagem was, 
that she might be a kind of spy in the fort, and that by her 
influence over the commander, the wonted caution with re- 
gard to Indians might be relaxed, and the soldiers permitted 
to go out unarmed and mingle in their diversions. This plan 
in some degree succeeded. There was at length a day fixed, 
on which a great match a# foot-ball was to be decided between 
two parties of Indians, and all the garrison were invited to be 
spectators. It was to be played on the esplanade opposite to 
the fort. At a given signal the ball was to be driven over the 
wall of the fort, which, as there was no likelihood of its ever 
being attacked by cannon, was merely a palisade and earthen 
breastwork. The Indians were to run hastily in, on pretence 
of recovering the ball, and shut the gate against the soldiers, 
whom Pondiac and his people were to tomahawk immediately. 
Pondiac, jealous of the Queen of Hearts, gave orders, after 
she was let into the secret of this stratagem, that she should 
go no more into the fort. Whether she was offended by this 
want of confidence, whether her humanity revolted at the in- 
tended massacre, or whether she really felt a particular at- 
tachment prevailing over her fidelity to her countrymen, so it 
was ; her affection got the better of her patriotism. A sol- 
dier's wife, who carried out to her the day before some articles 
of dress she had made for her, was the medium she made use 
of to convey a hint of the intended treachery. The colonel 
was unwilling, from the dark hint conveyed, to have recourse 
to any violent measures ; and was, indeed, doubtful of the 
fact. To kindle the flames of war wantonly, surrounded as 
he was by hostile nations who would carry their vengeance 
into the defenceless new settlements, was a dreadful expedi- 
ent Without betraying his informer, he resolved to convince 



220 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

himself. The men were ordered to go out to see the ball 
played, but to keep under shelter of the fort ; and if they saw 
the ball driven in, immediately to return and shut the gates. 
I cannot distinctly remember. the exact mode in which this 
mancEUvre was managed, but the consequence I know was, 
first, the repulsing of the Indians from the gate, and then the 
commencing of open hostilities on their side, while the garri- 
son was for some time in a state of blockade. 

Meantime the Indians had concerted another stratagem, to 
seize a vessel loaded with stores, which was daily expected 
from Niagara. Commodore Grant, a younger brother of the 
Glenmoriston family in Inverness-shire, was, and I believe 
still is, commander of the lakes ; an office which has now 
greatly risen in importance. At that time his own vessel and 
two or three smaller were employed in that na.yigation. This 
little squadron was very interesting on a double account. It 
carried stores, troops, (fee, which iBould not otherwise be 
transported, there being no way of proceeding by land ; and 
again, the size of the vessels, and a few swivels or small can- 
non they carried, enabled them to command even a fleet of 
canoes, should the Indians be disposed to attack them. Of 
this there was at the time not the least apprehension ; and 
here I must stop to give some account of the first victim to 
this unlooked-for attack. 

Sir Robert D. was the representative of an ancient English 
family, of which he was originally the sixth brother. At a 
certain time of life, somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, 
each was, successively, attacked with a hypochondriac dis- 
order, which finally proved fatal. Sir Robert, in turn, suc- 
ceeded to the estate and title, and to the dreadful apprehen- 
sion of being visited by the same calamity. This was the 
more to be regretted, as he was a person of very good abili- 
ties, and an excellent disposition. The time now approached 
when he was to arrive at that period of life at which the fatal 
malady attacked his brothers. He felt, or imagined he felt, 
some symptoms of the approaching gloom. What should he 
do ? medicine had not availed. Should he travel ? alas ! his 
brothers had travelled, but the blackest despair was their 
companion. Should he try a sea voyage ? one of them had 
commanded a ship, and fate overtook him in his own cabin. 
It occurred to him that, by living among a people who were 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 221 

Utter strangers to this most draadful of all visitations, and 
adopting their manner of life, he might escape its influence. 
He came over to America, where his younger brother served 
in a regiment then in Canada. He felt his melancholy daily 
increasing, and resolved immediately to put in execution his 
plan of entirely renouncing the European modes of life, and 
incorporating himself in some Indian tribe, hoping the novelty 
of the scene, and the hardships to which it would necessarily 
subject him, might give an entire new turn to his spirits. He 
communicated his intention to Sir William Johnson, who en- 
tirely approved of it, and advised him to go up to the great 
lake among the Hurons, who were an intelligent and sensible 
race, and inhabited a very fine country, and among whom he 
would not be liable to meet his countrymen, or be tempted 
back to the mode of life he wished for awhile entirely to for- 
sake. This was no flight of caprice, but a project undertaken 
in the most deliberate manner, and with the most rational 
views. It completely succeeded. The Hurons were not a 
little flattered to think that a European of Sir Robert's rank 
was going to live with them, and be their brother. He did 
not fail to conciliate them by presents, and still more by his 
ready adoption of their dress and manners. The steadiness 
he showed in adhering to a plan where he had not only severe 
hardships, but numberless disgusts to encounter, showed him 
possessed of invincible patience and fortitude ; while his let- 
ters to his friends, with whom he regularly corresponded, 
evinced much good sense and just observation. For two 
years he led this life, which habit made easy, and the enjoy- 
ment of equal spirits agreeable. Convinced that he had at- 
tained his desired end, and conquered the hereditary tendency 
so much dreaded, he prepared to return to society, intending, 
if his despondency should recur, to return once more to his 
Indian habit, and rejoin his Huron friends. When the inten- 
tion was formed by Pondiac and his associates of attacking 
the commodore's vessel, Sir Robert, who wished now to be 
conveyed to some of the forts, discerned the British ship from 
the opposite shore of the great lake, and being willing to 
avail himself of that conveyance, embarked in a canoe with 
some of his own Indian friends, to go on board the commo- 
dore. Meanwhile a very large canoe, containing as many of 
Pondiac's followers as it could possibly hold, drew near the 

19* 



222 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

king's ship, and made a pretext of coming in a friendly man- 
ner, while two or three others, filled with warriors, hovered 
at a distance. They had fallen short of their usual policy ; 
for they were painted red, and had about them some of those 
symbols of hostility which are perfectly understood among 
each other. Some friendly Indians, who happened to be by 
accident on board the commodore's vessel, discerned these, 
and warned him of the approaching danger. On their draw- 
ing near the vessel they were ordered to keep off. Thinking 
they were discovered, and that things could be no worse, they 
attempted to spring on board, armed with their tomahawks 
and scalping-knives, but were very soon repulsed. The other 
canoes, seeing all was discovered, drew near to support their 
friends, but were soon repulsed by a discharge of the six- 
pounders. At this crisis, the canoe containing Sir Robert 
began to advance in another direction. The Indians who 
accompanied him had not been apprized of the proposed at- 
tack ; but being Hurons, the commodore never doubted of 
their hostility. Sir Robert sat in the end of the canoe dressed 
in all the costume of a Huron, and wrapped up in his blanket. 
He ordered his companions to approach the ship immediately, 
not deterred by their calling to them to keep off, intending, 
directly, to make himself known ; but in the confusion he 
was accidentally shot. 

To describe the universal sorrow diffused over the province 
in consequence of this fatal accident would be impossible. 
Nothing since the death of Lord Howe had excited such gen- 
eral regret. The Indians carried the body to Detroit, and 
delivered it up to the garrison for interment. He had kept a 
journal during his residence on the lakes, which was never 
recovered, and must certainly have contained (proceeding 
from such a mind so circumstanced) much curious matter. 
Sir Charles, his younger brother, then a captain in the 17th, 
succeeded him, but had no visitation of the depression of 
mind so fatal to his brothers. 

Rumors, enlarged by distance, soon reached Albany of this 
unlooked-for attack of the Indians. Indeed, before they had 
any authentic details, they heard of it in the most alarming 
manner from the terrified back-settlers, who fled from their 
incursions. Those who dwell in a land of security, where 
only the distant rumor of war can reach them, would know 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 223 

something of the value of safety could they be but one day 
transported, to a region where this plague is let loose ; where 
the timorous and the helpless are made to 

" Die many times before their death" 

by restless rumor, cruel suspense, and anticipated misery. 
Many of the regiments employed in the conquest of Canada 
had returned home, or gone to the West Indies. Had the 
Canadians had spirit and coherence to rise in a body and join 
the Indians, 'tis hard to say what might have been the conse- 
quence. Madame, whose cautions were neglected in the day 
of prosperity, became now the public oracle, and was resorted 
to and consulted by all. Formerly she blamed their false se- 
curity and neglect of that powerful chief, w^ho, having been 
accustomed to flattery and gifts from all sides, was all at once 
made too sensible that it was from war he derived his impor- 
tance. Now she equally blamed the universal trepidation, 
being confident in our resources, and well knowing what use- 
ful allies the Mohawks, ever hostile to the Canadian Indians, 
might prove. 

Never was our good aunt more consulted or more respect- 
ed. Sir Jeffrey Amherst planned at Albany an expedition to 
be commanded by General Bradstreet, for which both New 
York and New England raised corps of prorincials. 



CHAPTER LI. 

Death of Captain Dalziel. — Sudden decease of an Indian chief. — Ma- 
dame. — Her proteges. 

Meantime an express arrived with the afflicting news of 
the loss of a captain and twenty men of the 55th regiment. 
The name of this lamented officer was Dalziel, of the Carn- 
wath family. Colonel Beckwith had sent for a reinforcement. 
This Major Duncan hesitated to send, till better informed as 
to the mode of conveyance. Captain Dalziel volunteered 
going. I cannot exactly say how far they proceeded ; but, 
after having penetrated through the woods till they were in 
sight of Detroit, they were discovered and attacked by a party 



224 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

of Indians, and made their way with the utmost difficulty, af- 
ter the loss of their commander and the third part of their 
number. 

Major Duncan's comprehensive mind took in every thing 
that had any tendency to advance the general good, and ce- 
ment old alliances. He saw none of the Hurons, whose ter- 
ritories lay far above Ontario, but those tribes whose course 
of hunting or fishing led them to his boundaries, were always 
kindly treated. He often made them presents of ammunition 
or provision, and did every thing in his power to conciliate 
them. Upon hearing of the outrage of which the Hurons* 
had been guilty, the heads of the tribe, with whom the major 
had cultivated the greatest intimacy, came to assure him of 
their good wishes and hearty co-operation. He invited them 
to come with their tribe to celebrate the birthday of the new 
king, (his present Majesty,) which occurred a few days after, 
and there solemnly renew, with the usual ceremonies, the 
league offensive and defensive made between their fathers 
and the late king. They came accordingly in their best arms 
and dresses, and assisted at a review, and at a kind of feast 
given on the occasion, on the outside of the fort. The chief, 
and his brother, who were two fine, noble-looking men, were 
invited in to dine with the major and officers. When they 
arrived, and were seated, the major called for a glass of wine 
to drink his sovereign's health ; this was no sooner done, than 
the sachem's brother fell lifeless on the floor. They thought 
it was a fainting-fit, and made use of the usual applications 
to recover him, which, to their extreme surprise, proved inef- 
fectual. His brother looked steadily on while all those means 
were using; but when convinced of their inefficacy, sat down, 
drew his mantle over his face, sobbed aloud, and burst into 
tears. This was an additional wonder. Through the traces 
of Indian recollection no person had been known to fall sud- 
denly dead without any visible cause, nor any warrior to shed 
tears. After a pause of deep silence, which no one felt in- 
clined to break, the sachem rose with a collected and dignified 
air, and thus addressed the witnesses of this affecting inci- 

* The author, perhaps, uses the term Huron, where that of Algonquin 
would have been more correct. She does not recollect the distinctive terms 
exactly, but applies the epithet, in general, to the Indians who then occu- 
pied the banks of the Huron lake, and the adjacent country. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 225 

dent : " Generous English, misjudge me not ; though you 
have seen me for once a child, in the day of battle you will 
see a man, who will make the Hurons weep blood. I was 
never thus before. But to me my brother was all. Had he 
died in battle, no look of mine would change. His nation 
would honor him, but his foes should lament him. I see sor- 
row in your countenances ; and I know you were not the 
cause of my brothers death. Why, indeed, should you take 
away a life that was devoted to you ? Generous English, ye 
mourn for my brother, and I will fight your battles." This 
assurance of his confidence was very necessary to quiet the 
minds of his friends ; and the concern of the officers was 
much aggravated by the suspicious circumstances attending 
his death so immediately after drinking of the wine they had 
given him. The major ordered this lamented warrior to be 
interred with great ceremony. A solemn procession, mourn- 
ful music, the firing of cannon, and all other military honors, 
evinced his sympathy for the living, and his respect for the 
dead ; and the result of this sad event, in the end, rather 
tended to strengthen the attachment of those Indians to the 
British cause. 

I have given this singular occurrence a place in these me- 
moirs, as it serves to illustrate the calm good sense and steady 
confidence which made a part of the Indian character, and 
added value to their friendship when once it was fairly at- 
tained. 

The 55th, which had been under orders to return home, 
felt a severe disappointment in being, for two years more, 
confined to their sylvan fortressef. These, however, they 
embellished, and rendered so comfortable, with gardens and 
farm-grounds, that to reside in them could no longer be ac- 
counted a penance. Yet, during the Indian war, they were, 
from motives of necessary caution, confined to very narrow 
limits ; which, to those accustomed to pursue their sports 
with all that wild liberty and wide excursion peculiar to sav- 
age hunters, was a hardship of which we can have no idea. 
Restrained from this unbounded license, fishing became their 
next favorite pursuit ; to this the lakes and rivers on which 
these forts were built, afibrded great facility. Tempted by 
the abundance and excellence of the productions of these co- 
pious waters, they were led to endanger their health by their 



226 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

assiduity in the amusement. Agues, the disease of all new 
establishments, became frequent among them, and were ag- 
gravated by the home-sickness. To this they were more pe- 
culiarly liable ; as the regiment, just newly raised before 
they embarked for America, had quitted the bosom of their 
families without passing through the gradation of boarding- 
schools and academies, as is usual in other countries. 

What an unspeakable blessing to the inhabitants were the 
parish-schools of the north, and how much humble worth and 
laborious diligence has been found among their teachers ! 
In those lowly seminaries, boys attained not only the rudi- 
ments of learning, but the principles of loyalty and genuine 
religion, with the abatement of a small tincture of idolatry; 
of which their household gods were the only objects. Never 
surely was a mode of education so calculated to cherish at- 
tachment to those tutelar deities. Even the Laird's son had 
often a mile or two to walk to his day-school ; a neighboring 
tenant's son carried the basket which contained his simple 
dinner ; and still as they went along they were joined by 
other fellow-travellers in the paths of learning. How cordial 
were those intimacies, formed in the early period of life and 
of the day, while nature smiled around in dewy freshness ! 
How gladdening to the kind and artless heart were these 
early walks through the wild varieties of a romantic country, 
and among the peaceful cottages of simple peasants,* from 
whence the incense of praise, " in sounds by distance made 
more sweet," rose on the morning breeze ! How cheering 
was the mid-day sport, amid their native burns and braes, 
without the confinement d^ a formal playground ! How de- 
lightful the evening walk homeward, animated by the con- 
sciousness of being about to meet all that was dearest to the 
artless and affectionate mind ! Thus the constitution was 
improved with the understanding ; and they carried abroad 
into active life, the rigid fibre of the robust and hardy frame, 
and the warm and fond affections of the heart, uncorrupted 
and true to its first attachments. Never sure were youth's 

* The Scottish peasants, when they return to breakfast from their 
early labors, always read a portion of Scripture, sing some part of a psalm, 
and pray. This practice is too general either to diminish cheerfulness, or 
convey the idea of superior sanctity ; while the effect of vocal music, 
rising at once from so many separate dwellings, is very impressive. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 227 

first glowing feelings more alive than in the minds of these 
young soldiers. From school they were hurried into the 
greatest fatigues and hardships, and the horrors of the most 
sanguinary war ; and thence transported to the depth of those 
central forests, where they formed to themselves a little 
world, whose greatest charm was the cherished recollection 
of the simple and endeared scenes of their childhood, and of 
the beloved relations whom they had left behind, and to whom 
they languished to return. They had not gone through the 
ordeal of the world, and could not cheer their exile by re- 
tracing its ways, its fashions, or its amusements. It is this 
domestic education, that unbroken series of home-joys and 
tender remembrances, which renders the natives of the north 
so faithful to their filial and fraternal duties, and so attached 
to a bleak and rugged region, .excelled in genial warmth of 
climate, and fertility of soil, by every country to which the 
spirit of adventure leads them. 

I was now restored to my niche at Aunt Schuyler's, and 
not a little delighted with the importance which, in this event- 
ful crisis, seemed to attach to her opinions. The times were 
too agitated to admit of her paying much attention to me ; but 
I, who took the deepest interest in what was going on, and 
heard of nothing, abroad or at home, but Indians, and sieges, 
and campaigns, was doubly awake to all the conversation I 
heard at home. 

The expedition proceeded under General Bradstreet, while 
my father, recommended to his attention by Madame, held 
some temporary employment about mustering the troops. 
My friend had now the satisfaction of seeing her plans suc- 
ceed in different instances. 

Philip, since known by the title of General Schuyler, whom 
I have repeatedly mentioned, had now, in pursuance of the 
mode she pointed out to him, attained to wealth and power ; 
both which were rapidly increasing. His brother Cortlandt, 
(the handsome savage,) who had, by her advice, gone into 
the army, had returned from Ireland, the commander of a 
company ; and was married to a very pleasing and estimable 
woman, whose perpetual vivacity and good humor threw a 
ray of light over the habitual reserve of her husband ; he was 
amiable in domestic life, though cold and distant in his man- 
ner. They settled near the general, and paid a degree of 



228 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

attention to Madame that showed the filial tie remained in full 
force. 

The colonel, as he was then called, had built a house near 
Albany, in the English taste, comparatively magnificent, 
where his family resided, and where he carried on the busi- 
ness of his department. Thirty miles or more above Albany, 
in the direction of the Flats, and near the far-famed Saratoga, 
which was to be the scene of his future triumph, he had an- 
other establishment. It was here that the colonel's political 
and economical genius had full scope. He had always the 
command of a great number of those workmen who w^ere 
employed in public buildings, (fee. They were always in 
constant pay ; it being necessary to engage them in that 
manner ; and were, from the change of seasons, the shutting 
of the ice, and other circumstances, months unemployed. 
All these seasons, when public business was interrupted, the 
workmen were occupied in constructing squares of buildings 
in the nature of barracks, for the purpose of lodging artisans 
and laborers of all kinds. Having previously obtained a large 
tract of very fertile lands from the crown, on which he built 
a spacious and convenient house, he constructed those bar- 
racks at a distance, not only as a nursery for the arts which 
he meant to encourage, but as the materials of a future col- 
ony, which he meant to plant out around him. He had here 
a number of negroes well acquainted with felling of trees and 
managing of saw-mills ; of which he erected several. And 
while these were employed in carrying on a very advantageous 
trade of deals and lumber, which were floated down on rafts 
to New York, they were at the same time clearing the ground 
for the colony the colonel was preparing to establish. 

This new settlement was an asylum for every one who 
wanted bread and a home. From the variety of employments 
regularly distributed, every artisan and every laborer found 
here lodging and occupation ; some hundreds of people, in- 
deed, were employed at once. Those who were in winter 
engaged at the saw-mills, were in summer equally busied at 
a large and productive fishery. The artisans got lodging and 
firing for two or three years, at first, besides being well paid 
for every thing they did. Flax was raised and dressed, and 
finally spun and made into linen there ; and as artisans were 
very scarce in the country, every one sent linen to weave, 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 229 

flax to dress, Slc, to the colonel's colony. He paid them 
liberally ; and having always abundance of money in his hands, 
could afford to be the loser at first, to be amply repaid in the 
end. It is inconceivable what dexterity, address, and deep 
policy were exhibited in the management of this new settle- 
ment ; the growth of which was rapid beyond belief. Every 
mechanic ended in being a farmer, that is, a profitable tenant 
to the owner of the soil ; and new recruits of artisans, from 
the north of Ireland chiefly, supplied their place, nourished 
with the golden dews which this sagacious projector could 
so easily command. The rapid increase and advantageous 
result of this establishment were astonishing. 'Tis impossi- 
ble for my imperfect recollection to do justice to the capacity 
displayed in these regulations. But I have thus endeavored 
to trace to its original source that wealth and power which 
became, afterwards, the means of supporting an aggression so 
formidable. 



CHAPTER LII. 
Madame's Popularity. — Exchange of Prisoners. 

In the front of Madame's house was a portico, towards the 
street. To this she was supported, in line evenings, when 
the whole town were enjoying themselves on their respective 
seats of one kind or other. To hers there were a few steps 
of ascent, on which we used humbly to seat ourselves ; 
while a succession of " the elders of that city" paid their 
respects to Madame, and conversed with her by turns. 
Never was levee better attended. " Aunt Schuyler is come 
out," was a talismanic sentence that produced pleasure in 
every countenance, and set every one in motion who hoped 
to be well received ; for, as I have formerly observed, Aunt 
knew the value of time much too well to devote it to every 
one. We lived all this time next door to her, and were 
often of these evening parties. 

The Indian war was now drawing to a close, after occa- 
sioning great disquiet, boundless expanse, and some blood- 

20 



230 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

shed. Even when we had the advantage which, our tactics 
and artillery in some instances gave, it was a warfare of the 
most precarious and perplexing kind. It was something like 
hunting in a forest at best, could you but have supposed the 
animals you pursued armed with missile weapons, and ever 
ready to start out of some unlooked-for place. Our faithful 
Indian confederates, as far as I can recollect, were more 
useful to us on this occasion than all the dear-bought appara- 
tus which we collected for the purpose of destroying an 
enemy too wise and too swift to permit us to come in sight 
of them ; or, if determined to attack us, sufficiently dexter- 
ous to make us feel before we saw them. We said, how- 
ever, that we conquered Pondiac, at which no doubt he 
smiled : for the truth of the matter was, the conduct of this 
war resembled a protracted game of chess. He was as little 
able to take our forts without cannon, as we were able, with- 
out the feet, the eyes, and the instinctive sagacity of Indians, 
to trace them to their retreats. After, delighting ourselves 
for a long while with the manner in which we were to pun- 
ish Pondiac's presumption, " could we once hut catch Idm^'' all 
ended in our making a treaty, very honorable for him, and 
not very disadvantageous to ourselves. We gave both pres- 
ents and promises, and Pondiac gaA^e permission to the 

mothers of those children who had been taken away from 
the frontier settlements to receive them back again, on con- 
dition of delivering up the Indian prisoners. 

The joyful day when the congress was holden for conclu- 
ding peace I never shall forget. Another memorable day is 
engraven in indelible characters upon my memory. Ma- 
dame, being deeply interested in the projected exchange, 
brought about a scheme for having it take place at Albany, 
which was more central than any other place, and where her 
influence among the Mohawks could be of use in getting in- 
telligence about the children, and sending messages to those 
who had adopted them, and who, by this time, were very un- 
willing to part with them. In the first place, because they 
were grown very fond of them ; and again, because they 
thought the children would not be so happy in our manner 
of life, which appeared to them both constrained and effemi- 
nate. This exchange had a large retrospect. For ten years 
back there had been every now and then, while these In- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 231 



dians were in the French interest, ravages upon the frontiers 
of the different provinces. In many instances these children 
had been snatched away while their parents were working 
in the fields, or after they were killed. A certain day was 
appointed, on which all who had lost their children, or sought 
those of their relations, were to come to Albany in search 
of them ; where, on that day, all Indians possessed of white 
children were to present them. Poor women, who had trav- 
elled some hundred miles from the back settlements of Penn- 
sylvania and New England, appeared here, with anxious 
looks and aching hearts, not knowing whether their children 
were alive, or how exactly to identify them if they should 
meet them. I observed these apprehensive and tender mo- 
thers w^ere, though poor people, all dressed with peculiar 
neatness and attention, each wishing the first impression her 
child should receive of her might be a favorable one. On a 
gentle slope near the fort, stood a row of temporary huts, 
built by retainers to the troops ; the green before these build- 
ings was the scene of these pathetic recognitions, which I 
did not fail to attend. The joy of even the happy mothers 
was overpowering, and found vent in tears ; but not like the 
bitter tears of those who, after long travel, found not what 
they sought. It was affecting to see the deep and silent 
sorrow of the Indian women, and of the children, who knew 
no other mother, and clung fondly to their bosoms, from 
whence they were not torn without the most piercing shrieks ; 
while their own fond mothers were distressed beyond meas- 
ure at the shyness and aversion with which these long-lost 
objects of their love received their caresses. I shall never 
forget the grotesque figures and wild looks of these young 
savages ; nor the trembling haste with w4iich their mothers 
arrayed them in the new clothes they had brought for them, 
as hoping that, with the Indian dress, they would throw off 
their habits and attachments. It was, in short, a scene im- 
possible to describe, but most affecting to behold. Never 
were my good friend's considerate liberality and useful sym- 
pathy more fully exerted than on this occasion, which brought 
so many poor travellers from their distant homes on this pil- 
grimage to the shrine of nature. How many traders did she 
persuade to take them gratis in their boats ! How many did 
she feed and lodge ! and in what various ways did she serve 



232 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

or make others serve them all. No one indeed knew how 
to refuse a request of Aunt Schuyler, who never made one 
for herself. 



CHAPTER LIII. 

Return of the 55th Regiment to Europe. — Privates sent to Pensacola. 

The 55th now left their calm abodes amidst their lakes 
and forests, with the joy of children breaking up from their 
school ; little aware that they were bidding adieu to quiet, 
plenty, and freedom, and utter strangers to the world, into 
which they were about to plunge. They all came down to 
Albany. Captain Mungo Campbell was charmed to tind me 
so familiar with his Milton ; while I was equally charmed to 
find him a favorite with Aunt Schuyler, which was with me 
the criterion of merit. Colonel Duncan, for such he was 
now, marched proudly at the head of his pupils, whom he 
had carried up raw youths, but brought back with all the 
manly and soldierly, openness of manner and character that 
could be wished, and with minds greatly improved. Mean- 
while Madame's counsels had so much influence on my fa- 
ther, that he began seriously to think of settling in America. 
To part with his beloved 55th was very trying ; yet his 
prospects of advantage in remaining among a people by 
whom he was esteemed, and to whom he had really become 
attached, were very flattering ; for by the aid of Aunt and 
the old inhabitants, and friendly Indians, who were at her 
powerful bidding, he could expect to get advantageously some 
lands which he, in common with other officers who served 
in America, was entitled to. He, having a right to apply for 
the allotted quantity wherever he found it vacant, that is, in 
odd unoccupied places, between diflerent patents, which it 
required much local knowledge of the country to discover, 
had greatly the advantage of strangers ; because he could 
get information of those secluded spots here and there that 
were truly valuable : whereas other officers belonging to re- 
giments disbanded in the country, either did not find it con- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 233 



venient to go to the expense of taking out a patent and sur- 
veying the lands, and so sold their rights for a trifle to 
others ; or else half a dozen went together, and made a 
choice, generally an injudicious one, of some large tract of 
ground, which would not have been so long unsolicited had 
it been of real value. My father bought the rights of two 
young officers who were in a hurry to go to Europe, and had 
not perhaps wherewithal to pass through the necessary forms 
used to appropriate a particular spot, the expense of that 
process being considerable. Accordingly he became a con- 
sequential landholder, and had his half-pay to boot. 

The 55th were now preparing to embark for that home 
which they regarded with enthusiasm ; this extended to the 
lowest ranks, who were absolutely home-sick. They had, 
too, from the highest to the lowest, been enabled, from their 
unexpensive mode of living, to lay up some money. Never 
was there a body of men more uncorrupted and more attached 
to each other. Military men contract a love of variety in 
their wandering manner of life, and always imagine they are 
to find some enjoyment in the next quarters that they have 
not had in this ; so that the order for marching is generally a 
joyful summons to the younger officers at. least. To these 
novices, who, when they thought the world of variety, glory, 
and preferment was open before them, were ordered up into 
the depth of unexplored forests, to be kept stationary for years 
together, without even the amusement of a battle, it was suf- 
ficiently disappointing. Yet, afterwards, I have been told 
that, in all the changes to which this hapless regiment was 
subjected, they looked back on the years spent on the lakes 
as the happiest of their lives. 

My father parted with them with extreme regret, but he 
had passed the Rubicon ; that is to say, taken out his patent, 
and stay he must. * He went, however, to New York with 
them, and here a very unexpected scene opened. Many of 
the soldiers who had saved little sums had deposited them in 
my father's hands, and, when he gave every one his own at 
New York, he had great pleasure in seeing their exultation, 
and the purchases they were making. When, all of a sud- 
den, a thunderbolt burst among these poor fellows, in the 
shape of an order to draft the greatest part of them to Pensa- 
cola ; to renew regiments, who, placed on a bar of burning 

20* 



234 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 

sand, with a salt marsh before and a swamp behind, were 
lingering out a wretched and precarious existence, daily cut 
short by disease in some new instance. Words are very in- 
adequate to give an idea of the horror that pervaded this band 
of veterans. When this order was, most unexpectedly, read 
at the head of the regiment, it was worse to most of them 
than a sentence of immediate death ; they were going to a 
dismal and detested quarter, and they were going to become 
part of a regiment of no repute ; whom they themselves had 
held in the utmost contempt when they had formerly served 
together. The officers were not a little affected by this cruel 
order to part with brave, well-disciplined men ; who, by their 
singular good conduct, and by the habits of sharing with their 
officers in the chase, and in their agricultural amusements, 
fishing-parties, &c., had acquired a kindly nearness to them 
not usually subsisting between those who command and those 
who must implicitly obey. What ties were broken ! what 
hopes were blasted by this fatal order ! These sad exiles 
embarked for Pensacola at the same time that their comrades 
set out for Ireland. My father returned, sunk in the deepest 
sadness, which was increased by our place of abode ; for we 
had removed to the forsaken fort, where there was no crea- 
ture but ourselves and three or four soldiers who chose to 
stay in the country, and for whom my father had procured 
their discharge. 

I was, in the mean time, more intimate than ever at Aunt 
Schuyler's ; attracted not only by her kindness, but my ad- 
miration for J\Irs. Cuyler, and attachment for her lovely little 
girl. The husband of the former was now returned from his 
West India voyage, and they retired to a house of their own, 
meaning to succeed to that business which the mayor, now 
wealthy and infirm, was quitting. Cortlandt Schuyler, the 
general's brother, and his sprightly, agteeable wife, were 
now, as well as the couple formerly mentioned, frequent visit- 
ors at aunt's, and made a very pleasing addition to her 
familiar circle. I began to be considered as almost a child 
of the family, and Madame took much pains in instructing 
me, hoping that I would continue attached to her, and know- 
ing that my parents were much flattered by her kindness, and 
fiilly conscious of the advantages I derived from it. With 
her aid my father's plan of proceeding was fully digested. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 235 



He was to survey and locate his lands, (that was the phrase 
used for such transactions,) and at leisure (as the price of 
lands was daily rising) to let them out on lease. He was to 
reserve a good farm for himself, but not to reside upon it till 
the lands around it were cultivated, and so many settlers gone 
up as would make the district in a degree civilized and popu- 
lous ; a change which was like to take place very rapidly, as 
there were daily emigrations to that neighborhood, which 
had become a favorite rallying-point, on account of a flourish- 
ing and singularly well-conducted settlement which 1 have 
already mentioned, under the auspices of Colonel Schuyler in 
this quarter. 



CIMPTER LIV. 

A new Property.— Visionary Plans. 



My father went up in summer with a retinue of Indians, 
and disbanded soldiers, &;c., headed by a land-surveyor. In 
that country, men of this description formed an important and 
distinct profession. They were provided with an apparatus of 
measuring-chains, tents, and provision. It was upon the 
whole an expensive expedition ; but this was the less to be 
regretted as the object proved fully adequate. Never was a 
location more fertile or more valuable, nor the possessor of an 
estate more elated with his acquisition ; a beautiful stream 
passed through the midst of the property ; beyond its limits 
on one side rose a lofty eminence covered with tall cedar, 
which being included in no patent, would be a common good, 
and offered an inexhaustible supply of timber and firing after 
the lands should be entirely cleared. This sylvan scene ap- 
peared, even in its wild state, to possess singular advantages ; 
it was dry-lying land without the least particle of swamp ; 
great part of it was covered with chesnuts, the sure indica- 
tion of good wheat-land, and the rest with white-oak, the 
never-failing forerunner of good Indian-corn and pasture. 
The ground, at the time of the survey, was in a great meas- 
ure covered with strawberries, the certain sign of fertility. 



236 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

And better and better still, there was, on a considerable 
stream which watered this region of benediction, a beaver- 
dam, that was visibly of at least fifty years standing. , What 
particular addition our overflowing felicity was to derive from 
the neighborhood of these sagacious builders, may not be 
easily conjectured. It was not their society, for they were 
much too wise to remain in our vicinity, nor yet their exam- 
ple, which, though a very good one, we were scarce wise 
enough to follow. Why then did we so much rejoice over 
the dwelling of these old settlers ? Merely because their in- 
dustry had saved us much trouble ; for, in the course of their 
labors, they had cleared above thirty acres of excellent hay- 
land ; work which we should take a long time to execute, 
and not perform near so well ; the truth was, this industrious 
colony, by whose previous labor we were thus to profit, were 
already extirpated, to my unspeakable sorrow, who had been 
creating a heaver Utopia ever since^ heard of the circum- 
stance. The protection I was to afford them, the acquaint- 
ance I was to make with them, after conquering the first shy- 
ness, and the delight I was to have in seeing them work, 
after convincing them of their safety, occupied my whole at- 
tention, and helped to console me for the drafting of the 55th, 
which I had been ever since lamenting. How buoyant is the 
fancy of childhood ! I was mortified to the utmost to hear 
there were no beavers remaining ; yet the charming, though 
simple description my father gave us of this " vale of bliss," 
which the beavers had partly cleared, and the whole " town- 
ship of Clarendon," (so was the new laid out territory called,) 
consoled me for all past disappointments. It is to be observed 
that the political and economical regulations of the beavers 
make their neighborhood very desirable to new settlers. They 
build houses and dams with unwearied industry, as every one 
that has heard of them must needs know ; but their uncon- 
querable attachment to a particular spot is not so well known ; 
the consequence is, that they work more, and of course clear 
more land in some situations than in others. When they 
happen to pitch upon a stream that overflows often in spring, 
it is apt to carry away the dam, formed of large trees laid 
across the stream, which it has cost them unspeakable pains 
to cut down and bring there. Whenever these are destroyed 
they cut down more trees and construct another ; and, as they 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 237 

live all winter on the tender twigs from the underwood and 
bark which they strip from poplar and alder, they soon clear 
these also from the vicinity. In the daytime they either 
mend their houses, lay up stores in them, or fish, sitting upon 
their dams made for that purpose. The night they employ 
in cutting down trees, (which they always do so as to make 
them fall towards the stream,) or in dragging them to the dam. 
Meanwhile they have always sentinels placed near, to give 
the alarm in case of any intrusion. It is hard to say when 
these indefatigable animals refresh themselves with sleep. I 
have seen those that have been taken young and made very 
tame, so that they followed their owner about ; even in these 
the instinct which prompts their nocturnal labors was appa- 
rent. Whenever all was quiet they began to work. Being 
discontented and restless, if confined, it was usual to leave 
them in the yard. They seemed, in their civilized, or rather 
degraded state, to retain an idea that it was necessary to con- 
vey materials for building to their wonted habitation. The 
consequence was, that a single one would carry such quanti- 
ties of wood to the back-door, that you would find your way 
blocked up in the morning to a degree almost incredible. 

Being very much inclined to be happy, and abundant in re- 
sources, the simple felicity which was at some future period 
to prevail among the amiable and innocent tenants we were 
to have at Clarendon, filled my whole mind. Before this 
flattering vision, all painful recollections, and even all the 
violent love which I had persuaded myself to feel for my na- 
tive Britain, entirely vanished. 

The only thing that disturbed me was Aunt Schuyler's age, 
and the thoughts of outliving her, which sometimes obtruded 
among my day-dreams of more than mortal happiness. I 
thought all this could scarce admit of addition ; yet a new 
source of joy was opened, when I found that we were actual- 
ly going to live at the Flats ; that spot, rendered sacred by 
the residence of aunt, where I should trace her steps wher- 
ever I moved, dwell under the shadow of her trees, and, in 
short, find her in every thing I saw. We did not aspire to 
serious farming, reserving that effort for our own estate, of 
which we talked very magnificently, and indeed had some 
reason, it being as valuable as so much land could be ; and 
from its situation in a part of the country which wds hourly 



238 SKETCHES OP MANxVERS 

acquiring fresh inhabitants, its value daily increased, which 
consideration induced my father to refuse several offers for 
it ; resolved either to people it with Highland emigrants, or 
retain it in his own hands till he should get his price. 

Sir Henry Moore, the last British governor of New York 
that I remember, came up this summer to see Albany, and 
the ornament of Albany, Aunt Schuyler ; he brought Lady 
Moore and his daughter with him. They resided for some 
time at General Schuyler's, I call him so by anticipation ; 
for sure I am, had any gifted seer foretold then what was to 
happen, he would have been ready to answer, "Is thy ser- 
vant a dog, that he should do this thing ?" Sir Harry, like 
many of his predecessors, was a mere show governor, and 
old Cadwallader Golden, the lieutenant-governor, continued 
to do the business, and enjoy the power in its most essential 
branches, such as giving patents for lands, &c. Sir Harry, 
in the mean time, had never thought of business in his life ; 
he was honorable, as far as a man could be so, who always 
spent more than he had ; he was, however, gay, good-na- 
tured, and well bred, affable, and courteous, in a very high 
degree ; and if the business of a governor was merely to keep 
the governed in good humor, no one was fitter for that office 
than he ; the more so, as he had sense enough to know two 
things of great importance to be known : one was, that a 
person of tried wisdom and good experience, like Golden, was 
fitter to transact the business of the province than any depen- 
dent of his own ; the other, that he was totally unfit to man- 
age it himself. The government-house was the scene of 
frequent festivities and weekly concerts, Sir Henry being very 
musical, and Lady Moore peculiarly fitted for doing the hon- 
ors of a drawing-room or entertainment. They were too 
fashionable, and too much hurried, to find time for particular 
friendships, and too good-natured and well bred to make in- 
vidious distinctions ; so that, without gaining very much either 
of esteem or affection, they pleased every one in the circle 
around them ; and this general civility of theirs, in the storm 
which was about to arise, had its use. In the beginning, be- 
fore the tempest broke loose in all its fury, it was like oil 
poured on agitated waters, which produces a temporary calm 
immediately round the ship. As yet the storm only muttered 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 239 

at a distance, but Madame was disturbed by anxious presa- 
ges. In her case, 

" Old experience actually did attain 
To something like prophetic strain." 

But it was not new to her to prophesy in vain. I, for my 
part, was charmed with the manners of these exahed visitors 
of aunt's, and not a little proud of their attention to her, not 
knowing that they showed pretty much the same attention to 
every one. 

While I was dancing on air with the thoughts of going to 
live at the Flats, of the beauties of Clarendon, and many 
other delights which I had created to myself, an event took 
place that plunged us all in sorrow. It was the death of the 
lovely child Catalina, who was the object of much fondness 
to us all ; for my parents, bating the allowance to be made 
for enthusiasm, were as fond of her as I was. Madame had 
set her heart very much on this engaging creature. She 
mustered up all her fortitude to support the parents of her 
departed favorite, but suffered much notwithstanding. Here 
began my acquaintance with sorrow. We went, however, to 
the Flats in autumn. Our family consisted of a negro girl, 
and a soldier, who had followed my father's fortunes from 
Scotland, and stuck to him through every change. We did 
not mean to farm, but had merely the garden, orchard, and 
enclosure for hay, two cows, a horse for my father, and a 
colt, which, to my great delight, was given me as a present. 
Many sources of comfort and amusement were now cut off 
from Madame ; her nephew and his lively and accomplished 
wife had left her ; Dr. Ogilvie had removed to New York, 
and had a successor no way calculated to supply his place. 
This year she had lost her brother-in-law Cornelius Cuyler,* 

* This estimable character had for the space of forty years (which in- 
cluded very important and critical conjunctures) been chief magistrate of 
Albany and its district ; a situation calculated to demand the utmost in- 
tegrity and impartiality, and to exercise all the powers of a mind, acute, 
vigilant, and comprehensive. The less he was amenable to the control 
and direction of his superiors, the more liable was he to the animadver- 
sions of his fellow-citizens, had he in the least departed from that recti- 
tude which made him the object of their confidence and veneration. He 
administered justice, not so much in conformity to written laws, as to that 
rule of equity within his own breast, the application of which was di- 



240 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

whose sound sense and intelligence made his society of con- 
sequence to her, independent of the great esteem and affec- 
tion she had for him. The army, among whom she always 
found persons of information and good breeding, in whose 
conversation she could take pleasure which might be truly 
called such, were gone. Nothing could compensate, in her 
opinion, for the privation of that enjoyment ; she read, but 
then the people about her had so little taste for reading, that 
she had not her wonted pleasure in that, for want of some 
one with whom she could discuss the topics suggested by 
her studies. It was in this poverty of society such as she 
was accustomed to enjoy, that she took a fancy to converse 
much with me, to regret my want of education, and to take a 
particular interest in my employments and mental improve- 
ment. That I might more entirely profit by her attention, she 
requested my parents to let me pass the winter with her ; this 
invitation they gladly complied with. 

The winter at the Fiats was sufficiently melancholy, and 
rendered less agreeable by some unpleasant neighbors we 
had. These were a family from New England, who had 
been preparing to occupy lands near those occupied by my 
father. They had been the summer before recommended to 
aunt's generous humanity, as honest people, who merely 
wanted a shelter in a room in her empty house, till they 
should build a temporary hut on those new lands which they 
were about to inhabit. When we came, the time permitted 
to them had long elapsed, but my father, who was exceed- 
ingly humane, indulged them with a fortnight more after our 
arrival, on the pretence of the sickness of a child ; and there 
they sat, and would not remove for the winter, unless coer- 
cion had been used for that purpose. We lived on the road- 
side ; there was at that time a perpetual emigration going on 

reeled by sound sense, improved by experience. I do by no means insin- 
uate, that he either neglected or disobeyed those laws, by which, in all 
doubtful cases, he was certainly guided ; but that the uncorrupted state 
of public morals, and the entire confidence which his fellow-citizens re- 
posed in his probity, rendered appeals to the law, for the most part, super- 
fluous. I have heard that the family of the Cuylers was originally a 
German one of high rank. Whether this can or cannot be ascertained, 
is of little consequence. The sterling worth of their immediate ancestor, 
and his long and faithful services to the public, reflect more honor on his 
descendants than any length of pedigree. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 241 



from the provinces of New England to our back settlements. 
Our acquaintance with the family who kept possession beside 
us, and with many of even the better sort, who came to bar- 
gain with my father about his lands, gave us more insight than 
we wished into the prevalent character of those people, whom 
we found conceited, litigious, and selfish, beyond measure. 
My father was told that the only safe way to avoid being over- 
reached by them in a bargain, was to give them a kind of 
tacit permission to sit down on his lands, and take his chance 
of settling with them when they Were brought into some de- 
gree of cultivation ; for if one did bargain with them, the 
custom was to have it three years free for clearing, at the 
end of which the rents or purchase-money was paid. By 
that time, any person who had expended much labor on land, 
would rather pay a reasonable price or rent for it than be re- 
moved. 

In the progress of his intercourse with these very vulgar, 
insolent, and truly disagreeable people, my father began to 
disrelish the thoughts of going up to live among them. They 
flocked indeed so fast to every unoccupied spot, that their 
malignant and envious spirit, their hatred of subordination, 
and their indifference to the mother-country, began to spread 
like a taint of infection. 

These illiberal opinions, which produced manners equally 
illiberal, were particularly wounding to disbanded officers, 
and to the real patriots, who had <;onsulted in former times 
the happiness of the country, by giving their zealous co- 
operation to the troops sent to protect it. These two classes 
of people began now to be branded as the slaves of arbitrary 
power, and all tendencies to elegance or refinement were de- 
spised as leading to aristocracy. The consequence of all 
this was, such an opposition of opinions as led people of the 
former description to seek each other's society exclusively. 
Winter was the only time that distant friends met there, and 
to avoid the chagrin resulting from this distempered state of 
society, veterans settled in the country were too apt to devote 
themselves to shooting and fishing, taking refuge from lan- 
guor in these solitary amusements. 

We had one brave and loyal neighbor, however, who saw 
us often, and was " every inch a gentleman ;" this was Pe- 
drom. Aunt's brother-in law, in whom lived the spirit of the 

21 



242 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

Schuylers, and who was our next neighbor and cordial friend. 
He was now old, detached from the world, and too deaf to be 
an easy companion ; yet he had much various information, 
and was endeared to us by similarity of principle. 

Matters were beginning to be in this state the first winter 
I went to live with Aunt. Her friends were much dis- 
persed ; all conversation was tainted with politics, — Crom- 
wellian politics, too, which of all things she disliked. Her 
nephew, Cortlandt Schuyler, who had been a great Nimrod 
ever since he could carry % gun, and who was a man of strict 
honor and nice feelings, took such a melancholy view of 
things, and so little relished that Stamp Act, which was the 
exclusive subject of all conversation, that he devoted himself 
more and more to the chase, and seemed entirely to renounce 
a society which he had never greatly loved. As I shall not 
refer to him again, I shall only mention here, that this esti- 
mable person was taken away from the evil to come two 
years after, by a premature death, being killed by a fall from 
his horse in hunting. What sorrows were hid irom his eyes 
by this timely escape from scenes which would have been to 
him peculiarly wounding ! 

If Madame's comforts in society were diminished, her do- 
mestic satisfactions were not less so. By the time I came to 
live with her, Mariamat and Dianamat were almost superan- 
nuated, and had lost, in a great measure, the restraining 
power they used to exercise over their respective offspring. 
Their woolly heads were snow-white, and they had become 
so feeble, that they sat each in her great chair at the oppo- 
site side of the fire. Their wonted jealousy was now embit- 
tered to rancor, and their love of tobacco greater than ever. 
They had arrived at that happy period of ease and indo- 
lence, which left them at full liberty to smoke and scold the 
whole day long ; this they did with such unwearied perse- 
verance, and in a manner so ludicrous, that to us young peo- 
ple they were a perpetual comedy. 

Sorely now did Aunt lament the promise she had kept so 
faithfully, never to sell any of the colonel's negroes. There 
was so little to do for fourteen persons, except the business 
they created for each other, and it was so impossible to keep 
them from too freely sharing the plenty of her liberal house, 
that idleness and abundance literally began to corrupt them. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 



243 



All these privations and uneasinesses will in some measure 
account for such a person as Madame taking such pleasure 
in the society of an overgrown child. But then she was glad 
to escape from dark prospects and cross politics to the amuse- 
ment derived from the innocent cheerfulness natural to that 
time of life. A passion for reading, and a very comprehen- 
sive memory too, had furnished my mind with more variety 
of knowledge than fell to the lot of those who, living in large 
families and sharing the amusements of* childhood, were not, 
like me, driven to that only resource. All this will help to 
account for a degree of confidence and favor, daily increas- 
ing, which ended in my being admitted to sleep in a little bed 
beside her, which never happened to any other. In the win- 
ter nights, our conversations often encroached on the earlier 
hours of morning. The future appeared to her dubious and 
cheerless ; which was one reason, I suppose, that her active 
mind turned solely on retrospection. She saw that I listened 
with delighted attention to the tales of other times, which no 
one could recount so well. These, too, were doubly inter- 
esting, as, like the sociable angeVs conversation with our first 
father, they related to the origin and formation of all I saw 
around me ; they afforded food for reflection, to which I was 
very early addicted, and hourly increased my veneration for 
her whom I already considered as my polar star. The great 
love I had for her first gave interest to her details ; and again, 
the nature of these details increased my esteem for the nar- 
rator. Thus passed this winter of felicity, which so much 
enlarged my stock of ideas, that in looking back upon it I 
thought I had lived three years in one. 



CHAPTER LV. 

Return to the Flats. 



Summer came, and with it visitors, as usual, to Madame 
from New York and other places ; among whom, I remem- 
ber, were her nieces, Mrs. L. and Mrs. C. I went to the 
Flats, and was, as usual, kept very close to my needlework ; 



244 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

but though there was no variety to amuse me, summer slid by 
very fast. My mind was continually occupied with Aunt," 
and all the passages of her life. My greatest pleasure was 
to read over again the books I had read to her, and recollect 
her observations upon them. I often got up and went out to 
the door to look at places where particular things had hap- 
pened. She spent the winter nights in retrospections of her 
past life ; and I spent the summer days in retrospections of 
these winter nights. 'But these were not my only pleasures. 
The banks of the river, and the opposite scenery, delighted 
me ; and, adopting all Aunt's tastes and attachments, I made 
myself believe I was very fond of Pedrom, and Susanna 
Muet, as the widow of Jeremiah was called. My attention 
to them excited their kindness ; and the borrowed sentiment, 
on my part, soon became a real one. These old friends were 
very amusing. But then I had numberless young friends, 
who shared my attention, and were, in their own way, very 
amusing too. These were the objects of my earliest cares 
in the morning, and my needless solicitude all day. I had 
marked down in a list, between thirty and forty nests of vari- 
ous kinds of birds. It was an extremely dry summer ; and 
I saw the parent birds, whom I diligently watched, often 
panting with heat, and, as I thought, fatigued. After all I 
had heard and seen of Aunt, 1 thought it incumbent on me to 
be good and kind to some being that needed my assistance. 
To my fellow-creatures my power did not extend ; therefore 
I wisely resolved to adapt my mode of beneficence to the 
sphere of action assigned to me, and decided upon the judi- 
cious scheme of assisting all these birds to feed their young. 
My confederate, Marian, (our negro girl,) entered heartily 
into this plan ; and it was the business of the morning, before 
tasks commenced, to slaughter innumerable insects, and gather 
quantities of cherries and otfier fruit for that purpose. Por- 
tions of this provision we laid beside every nest, and then 
applauded ourselves for saving the poor birds fatigue. This, 
from a pursuit, became a passion. Every spare moment was 
devoted to it ; and every hour made new discoveries of the 
nature and habits of our winged friends, which we considered 
as amply recompensing our labors. 

The most eager student of natural philosophy could not be 
more attentive to those objects, or more intent on making dis- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 245 

coveries. One sad discovery we made that mortified us ex- 
ceedingly. The mocking-bird is very scarce and very shy in 
this northern district. A pair came, however, to our inex- 
pressible delight, and built a nest in a very high tree in our 
garden. Never was joy like ours. At the imminent risk of 
our necks we made shift to ascend to this lofty dwelling 
during the absence of the owners. Birds we found none, but 
three eggs of a color so equivocal, that deciding the point 
whether they were green or blue furnished matter of debate 
for the rest of the day. To see these treasures was delight- 
ful, and to refrain from touching them impossible. One of 
the young we resolved to appropriate, contrary to our general 
humane procedure ; and the next weighty affair to be dis- 
cussed, was the form and size of the cage which was to con- 
tain this embryo warbler. The parents, however, arrived. 
On examining the premises, by some mysterious mode of 
their own they discovered that their secret had been explored, 
and that profane hands had touched the objects of all their 
tenderness. Their plaintive cries we too well understood. 
That whole evening and all the next day they were busied in 
the orchard ; while their loud lamentations, constantly reiter- 
ated, pierced us with remorse. We soon saw the garden- 
nest forsaken ; and a little further examination soon convinced 
us that the violated eggs had been transported to another 
place, where, however, they were not hatched. The delicate 
instinct which directed these creatures to form a new nest, 
and carry off their eggs, on finding they had been handled, 
did not, at the same time, inform them, that eggs carried 
away, and shaken by that motion during the process of incu- 
bation, cannot produce any thing. 

The great barn, which I formerly described, afforded scope 
for our observations of this nature ; and here we remarked a 
phenomenon that I am still at a loss to account for. In the 
highest part of that spacious and lofty roof, multitudes of 
swallows, of the martin species, made their nests. These 
were constructed of mud or clay as usual, and, in the ordina- 
ry course of things, lasted, with some repairs, from year to 
year. This summer, however, being unusually hot and dry, 
the nests, in great numbers, cracked and fell down on the 
floor, with the young ones in them. We often found them 
in this situation, but always found the birds in them alive and 

21* 



246 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

unhurt ; and saw the old ones come to feed them on the floor, 
which they did with such eager confidence, that they often 
brushed so near as to touch us. Now we could no other way 
account for the nests always coming down with the birds 
unhurt in them, than by supposing that the swallows watched 
the fracture of the nests, and when they saw them about to 
fall, came round the descending fabric, and kept it in a kind 
of equilibrium. Of these birds we stood in such profound 
awe, that we never profited by the accident which put them in 
our power ; we would not indeed, for any consideration, have 
touched th^m, especially after the sad adventure of the mock- 
ing-bird, which hung very heavy upon our consciences. 
Autumn came, and Aunt came at the appointed day, the an- 
niversary of his death, to visit the tomb of her beloved con- 
sort. This ceremony always took place at that time. She 
concluded it with a visit to us, and an earnest request for my 
returning with her, and remaining the winter. 



CHAPTER LVI. 

Melancholy presages. — Turbulence of the people. 

The conversations between my father and Aunt assumed 
a melancholy cast. Their hopes of a golden age in that 
country (now that the flames of war were entirely quenched) 
grew weaker. The repeal of the Stamp Act occasioned ex- 
cessive joy, but produced little gratitude. The youth of the 
town, before that news arrived, had abandoned their wonted 
sports, and begun to amuse themselves with breaking the 
windows and destroying the furniture of two or three diflerent 
people, who had, in succession, been suspected of being 
stamp-masters in embryo. My father grew fonder than ever 
of fishing and shooting, because birds and fish did not talk of 
tyranny and taxes. Sometimes we were refreshed by a visit 
from some of Aunt's nephews, the sons of the mayor. They 
always left us in great good-humor, for they spoke respect- 
fully of our dear king, and dearer country. But this sun- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 247 

shine was transient ; they were soon succeeded by Obadiah 
or Zephaniah, from Hampshire or Connecticut, who came in 
without knocking ; sat down without invitation ; and lighted 
their pipe without ceremony ; then talked of buying land ; 
and, finally, began a discourse on politics, which would have 
done honor to Praise God Barebones, or any of the members 
of his parliament. What is very singular is, that though the 
plain-spoken and manly natives of our settlement had a gen- 
eral dislike to the character of these litigious and loquacious 
pretenders, (such are the inconsistencies into which peeple 
are led by party,) yet they insensibly adopted many of their 
notions. With Madame I was quite free from this plague. 
None of that chosen race ever entered her door. She valued 
time too much to devote it to a set of people whom she con- 
sidered as greatly wanting in sincerity. I speak now of the 
Hampshire and Connecticut people. In towns and at sea- 
ports the old leaven had given way to that liberality which 
was produced by a better education, and an intercourse with 
strangers. Much as Aunt's loyal and patriotic feelings were 
hurt by the new mode of talking which prevailed, her benev- 
olence was not cooled, nor her mode of living changed. 

I continued to grow in favor with Aunt this winter ; for 
the best possible reasons, I was the only one of the family 
that would sit still with her. The young people in the house 
were by no means congenial with her ; and each had a love- 
affair in hand fast ripening into matrimony, that took up all 
their thoughts. Mr. H., our chaplain, was plausible, but 
superficial, vain, and ambitious. He too was busied in 
hatching a project of another kind. On pretence of study, 
he soon retired to his room after meals, dreading no doubt 
that Aunt might be in possession of Ithuriel's spear, or, to 
speak without a figure, might either fathom his shallowness 
or detect his project. One of these discoveries he knew 
would sink him in her opinion, and the other exclude him 
from her house. For my own part, I was always puzzling 
myself to consider, why I did not more love and reverence 
Mr. H., who, I took it for granted, must needs be good, wise, 
and learned ; for I thought a clergyman was all but inspired. 
Thus thinking, I wondered why I did not feel for Mr. H. 
what I felt for Aunt in some degree ; but, unfortunately, Mr. 
H. was a true-bred native of Connecticut, which perhaps 



248 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

helped more than any intuitive penetration into character, to 
prevent any excess of veneration. Aunt and I read Burnet's 
jnemoirs and some biography this winter, and talked at least 
over much geography and natural history. Here, indeed, I 
was in some degree obliged to Mr. H. ; I mean for a few 
lessons on the globe. He had too an edition of Shakspeare. 
I have been trying, but in vain, to recollect what Aunt said of 
this. Not much, certainly, but she was much pleased with 
the Essay on Man, &c. Yet I somehow understood that 
Shakspeare was an admired author, and was not a little mor- 
tified when I found myself unable to appreciate his merits. 
I suppose my taste had been vitiated by bombast tragedies I 
had read at Colonel E.'s. I thought them grossly familiar, 
and very inferior to Cato, whom Aunt had taught me to 
admire ; in short, I was ignorant, and because I could read 
Milton, did not know my own ignorance. . I did not expect 
to meet nature in a play, and therefore did not recognise her. 
'Tis not to be conceived how I puzzled over Hamlet, or how 
his assumed madness and abuse of Ophelia confounded me. 
Othello's jealousy, and the manner in which he expressed it, 
were quite beyond my comprehension. 

I mention these things as a warning to other young people 
not to admire by rote, but to wait the unfolding of their own 
taste, if they would derive real pleasure from the works of 
genius. I rather imagine I was afraid Aunt would think I 
devoted too much time to what I then considered as a trifling 
book. For I remember reading Hamlet the third or fourth 
time, in a frosty night, by moonlight, in the back porch. This 
reiterated perusal was not in consequence of any great pleas- 
ure it afforded me ; but I was studiously laboring to discover 
the excellence I thought it must needs contain ; yet with 
more diligence than success. Madame was at this time, I 
imagine, foreseeing a storm, and trying to withdraw her mind 
as much as possible from earthly objects. 

Forty years before this period, a sister of the deceased 
colonel had married a very worthy man of the name of Wen- 
dell. He being a person of an active, enterprising disposi- 
tion, and possessing more portable wealth than usually fell to 
the share of the natives there, was induced to join some great 
commercial company near Boston, and settled there. He 
was highly prosperous and much beloved, and for awhile 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 



249 



cultivated a constant commerce with the friends he left be- 
hind. When he died, however, his wife, who was a meek, 
benevolent woman, without distrust, and a stranger to busi- 
ness, was very ill-treated ; her sons, who had been married 
in the country, died. Their connections secured the family 
property for their children. In the primitive days of New 
York, a marriage settlement was an unheard-of thing. Far 
from her native home, having outlived her friends, helpless 
and uncomplaining, this good woman, who had lived all her 
days in the midst of deserved affluence and affection, was 
now stripped by chicanery of all her rights, and sinking into 
poverty without a friend or comforter. Aunt, immediately 
upon hearing this, set on foot a negotiation to get Mrs. Wen- 
dell's affairs regulated, so that she might have the means of 
living with comfort in a country in which long residence had 
naturalized her ; or that failing, to bring her home to reside 
with herself. Perhaps in the whole course of her life, she 
had not experienced so much of the depravity of human nature 
as this inquiry unfolded to her. The negotiation, however, 
cheered and busied her at a time when she greatly needed 
some exertion of mind to check the current of thought pro- 
duced by the rapid and astonishing change of manners and 
sentiments around her. But in our province there were two 
classes of people who absolutely seemed let loose by the 
demon of discord, for the destruction of public peace and 
private confidence. One of these was composed of lawyers, 
who multiplied so fast that one would think they rose like 
mushrooms from the earth. For many years one lawyer was 
sufficient for the whole settlement. But the swarm of these, 
which had made so sudden and portentous an appearance, 
had been encouraged to choose that profession because a 
wide field was open for future contention, merely from the 
candor and simplicity of the last generation. 

Not in the least distrusting each other, nor aware of the 
sudden rise of the value of lands, these primitive colonists 
got large grants from government, to encourage their efforts 
in the early stages of cultivation ; these lands being first 
purchased, for some petty consideration, from the Indians, 
who alone knew the landmarks of that illimitable forest. 

The boundaries of such large grants, when afterwards con- 
firmed by government, were distinguished by the terms used 



250 SKETCHES OP MANNERS 

by the Indians, who pointed them out ; and very extraordina- 
ry marks they were. For instance, one that I recollect : 
" We exchange with our brother Cornelius Rensselaer for so 
many strouds, guns, &c., the lands beginning at the beaver- 
creek, going on northward, to the great fallen plane-tree, 
where our tribe slept last summer ; then eastward, to the 
three great cedars on the hillock ; then westward, straight to 
the wild-duck swamp ; and straight on from the swamp to 
the turn in the beaver-creek where the old dam was." 

Such, are the boundaries seriously described in this man- 
ner, in one of the earliest patents. The only mode, then ex- 
isting, of fixing those vague limits, was to mark large trees 
which grew at the corners of the property," with the owner's 
name deeply cut, along with the date of the patent, &c., after 
blazing, that is to say, cutting deeply into the tree, for a plain 
space to hold this inscription. 

In this primitive manner were all the estates in the prov- 
ince bounded. Towards the sea this did very well, as the 
patents, in a manner, bounded each other ; and every one took 
care to prevent the encroachments of his neighbor. But in 
the interior, people took great stretches of land here and there 
where there were not patented lands adjoining ; there being 
no continuity of fertile ground except on the banks of streams. 
The only security the public had against these trees being cut 
down, or others at a greater distance marked in their stead, 
was a law which made such attempts penal. This was a 
very nugatory ^reat ; it being impossible to prove such an 
offence. Crimes of this nature encroaching on the property 
of individuals, I believe, rarely happened ; but to enlarge one's 
boundary by taking in a little of King George's ground, to use 
a provincial phrase, was considered as no great harm ; and, 
besides, many possessed extensive tracts of land unquestioned, 
merely on the strength of Indian grants unsanctioned by gov- 
ernment. One in particular, the proudest man I ever knew, 
had a lawsuit with the king for more land than would form a 
German principality. Now that the inundation of litigious 
new settlers, from Massachusetts' bounds, had awaked the 
spirit of inquiry, (to call it no worse,) every day produced a 
fresh lawsuit, and all of the same nature, about ascertaining 
boundaries. In one instance, where a gentleman was sup- 
posed to be unfairly possessed of a vast tract of fine land, a 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 251 

confederacy of British officers, I must confess, questioned his 
right ; applying beforehand for a grant of such lands as they 
could prove the possessor entitled to ; and contributing among 
them a sum of money to carry on this great lawsuit, which 
having been given against them in the province, they appealed 
to the Board of Trade and Plantations at home. Here the 
uncertainty of the law was very glorious indeed ; and hence, 
from the gainful prospect opening before them, swarms of 
petulant, half-educated young men started, one knew not 
whence. And as these great lawsuits were matter of general 
concern, no one knowing whose turn might be next, all con- 
versation began to be infected with litigious cant ; and every 
thing seemed unstable and perplexed. 



CHAPTER LVH. 

Settlers of a new description. — Madame's Chaplain. 

Another class of pei^ple contributed their share to destroy 
the quiet and order of the country. While the great army, 
that had now returned to Britain, had been stationed in 
America, the money they spent there had, in a great measure, 
centred in New York, where many ephemeral adventurers 
began to flourish as merchants, who lived in a gay, and even 
profuse style, and affected the language and manners of the 
army, on which they depended. Elated with sudden pros- 
perity, those people attempted every thing that could increase 
their gains ; and, finally, at the commencement of the Span- 
ish war, fitted out several privateers, which, being sent to 
cruise near the mouth of the Gulf of Florida, captured sev- 
eral valuable prizes. Money so easily got was as lightly 
spent, and proved indeed ruinous to those who shared it ; 
they being thus led to icidulge in expensive habits, which con- 
tinued after the means that supplied them were exhausted. 
At the departure of the army, trade languished among these 
new people ; their British creditors grew clamorous ; the 
primitive inhabitants looked cold upon them ; and nothing re- 



252 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

mained for them but that self-banishment, which, in that coun- 
try, was the usual consequence of extravagance and folly, a 
retreat to the woods. Yet, even in these primeval shades, 
there was no repose for the vain and the turbulent. It was truly 
amusing to see those cargoes of rusticated fine ladies and gen- 
tlemen going to their new abodes, all lassitude and chagrin ; 
and' very soon after, to hear of their attempts at finery, con- 
sequence, and pre-eminence, in the late invaded residence of 
bears and beavers. There, no pastoral tranquillity, no sylvan 
delights awaited them. In this forced retreat to the woods 
they failed not to carry with them those household gods whom 
they had worshipped in town ; the pious iEneas was not more 
careful of his Penates, nor more desirous of establishing them 
in his new residence. These are the persons of desperate 
circumstances, expensive habits, and ambitious views ; who, 
like the " tempest-loving raven," delight in changes, and an- 
ticipate, with guilty joy, the overturn of states, in which they 
have nothing to lose, and have hopes of rising on the ruins of 
others. The lawyers, too, foresaw that the harvest they were 
now reaping from the new mode of inquiry into disputed ti- 
tles, could not be of long duration. They did not lay a reg- 
ular plan for the subversion of the existing order of things ; 
but they infected the once plain and j^imitive conversation of 
the people with law-jargon, which spread like a disease, and 
was the more fatal to elegance, simplicity, and candor, as 
there were no rival branches of science, the cultivation of 
which might have divided people's attention with this dry, 
contentious theme. 

The spirit of litigation, which narrowed and heated every 
mind, was a great nuisance to IMadame, who took care not to 
be much troubled with it in conversation, because she discoun- 
tenanced it at her table, where, indeed, no petulant upstarts 
were received. She was, however, persecuted with daily ref- 
erences to her recollections with regard to the traditionary 
opinions relative to boundaries, &c. While she sought refuge 
in the peaceable precincts of the gospel, from the tumultuous 
contests of the law, which she always spoke of with dislike, 
she was little aware that a deserter from her own camp was 
about to join the enemy. Mr. H., our chaplain, became, 
about this time, very reserved and absent ; law and politics 
were no favorite topics in our household, and these alone 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 253 

seemed much to interest our divine. Many thought Aunt was 
imposed on by this young man, and took him to be what he 
was not; but this was by no means the case. She neither 
thought him a wit, a scholar, or a saint ; but merely a young 
man, who, to very good intentions and a blameless life, added 
the advantages of a better education than fell to the lot of lay- 
men there ; simplicity of manners, and some powers of con- 
versation, with a little dash of the coxcomb, rendered tolera- 
ble by great good nature. 

Vanity, however, was the rock on which our chaplain split; 
he found himself, among the circle he frequented, the one- 
eyed king in the kingdom of the blind ; and thought it a pity 
such talents should be lost in a profession where, in his view 
of the subject, bread and peace were all that was to be ex- 
pected. The first intelligence I heard was, that Mr. H., on 
some pretence or other, often went to the neighboring town of 
Schenectady, now rising into consequence, and there openly 
renounced his profession, and took out a license as a practis- 
ing lawyer. It is easy to conjecture how Madame must have 
considered this wanton renunciation of the service of the altar 
for a more gainful pursuit, aggravated by simulation at least ; 
for this seeming open and artless character took all the bene- 
fit of her hospitality, and continued to be her inmate the whole 
time that he was secretly carrying on a plan he knew she 
would reprobate. She, however, behaved with great dignity 
on the occasion ; supposing, no doubt, that the obligations she 
had conferred on him, deprived her of a right to reproach or 
reflect upon him. She was never after heard to mention his 
name ; and when others did, she always shifted the conver- 
sation. 

All these revolutions in manners and opinions helped to 
endear me to Aunt, as a pupil of her own school ; while my 
tenacious memory enabled me to entertain her with the wealth 
of others' minds, rendered more amusing by the simplicity of 
my childish comments. Had I been capable of flattery, or 
rather, had I been so deficient in natural delicacy, as to say 
what I really thought of this exalted character, the awe with 
which I regarded her would have deterred me from such pre- 
sumption ; but as I really loved and honored her, as virtue 
personified, and found my chief happiness in her society and 
com'ersation, she could not but be aware of this silent adula- 

22 



254 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

tion, and she became indeed more and more desirous of having 
me with her. To my father, however, I had now become, in 
some degree, necessary, from causes somewhat similar. He, 
too, was sick of the reigning conversation ; and being nervous, 
and rather inclined to melancholy, began to see things in the 
darkest light, and made the most of a rheumatism, in itself 
bad enough, to have a pretext for indulging the chagrin that 
preyed upon his mind, and avoiding his Connecticut persecu- 
tors, who attacked him everywhere but in bed. A fit of 
chagrin was generally succeeded by a fit of home-sickness, 
and that by a paroxysm of devotion exalted to enthusiasm ; 
during which all worldly concerns were to give way to those 
of futurity. Thus melancholy and thus devout I found my 
father ; whose pure and upright spirit was corroded with the 
tricks and chicanery he was forced to observe in his new as- 
sociates, with whom his singular probity and simplicity of 
character rendered him very unfit to contend. My mother, 
active, cheerful, and constantly occupied with her domestic 
affairs, sought pleasure nowhere, and found content every- 
where. I had begun to take the luxury of intellectual pleas- 
ures with a very keen relish. Winter, always severe, but 
this year armed with tenfold vigor, checked my researches 
among birds and plants, which constituted my summer de- 
lights ; and poetry was all that remained to me. While I 
was, " in some diviner mood," exulting in these scenes of 
inspiration, opened to me by the " humanizing muse," the ter- 
rible decree went forth, that I was to read no more " idle 
books or plays." This decree was merely the momentary 
result of a fit of sickness and dejection, and never meant to 
be seriously enforced. It produced, however, the effect of 
making me read so much divinity, that I fancied myself got 
quite " beyond the flaming bounds of space and time ;" and 
thought I could never relish light reading more. In this 
solemn mood, my greatest relaxation was a visit now and 
then to aunt's sister-in-law, now entirely bedridden, but still 
possessing great powers of conversation, which were called 
forth by the flattering attention of a child to one whom the 
world had forsaken. I loved, indeed, play, strictly such, 
thoughtless, childish play, and next to that, calm reflection 
and discussion. The world was too busy and too artful for 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 255 

me ; I found myself most at home with those who had not 
entered, or those who had left it. 

My father's illness was much aggravated by the conflict 
which began to arise in his mind regarding his proposed re- 
moval to his lands, which were already surrounded by a new 
population, consisting of these fashionable emigrants from the 
gay world at New York, whom I have been describing, and 
a set of fierce republicans, if any thing sneaking and drawl- 
ing may be so called, whom litigious contention had banished 
from their native province, and who seemed let loose, like 
Samson's foxes, to carry mischief and conflagration wherever 
they went. Among this motley crew there was no regular 
place of worship, nor any likely prospect that there would be, 
for their religions had as many shades of difference as the 
leaves in autumn ; and every man of substance who arrived, 
was preacher and magistrate to his own little colony. To 
hear these people talk, one would think time had run back to 
the days of the levellers. The settlers from New York, 
however, struggled hard for superiority, but they were not 
equal in chicane to their adversaries, whose power lay in 
their cunning. It was particularly hard for people who ac- 
knowledged no superior, who had a thorough knowledge of 
law and scripture, ready to wrest to every selfish purpose, it 
was particularly hard, I say, for such all-sufficient personages 
to hold their lands from such people as my father and others, 
of " King George's Red-Coats," as they elegantly styled 
them. But they were fertile in expedients. From the ori- 
ginal establishment of these provinces, the Connecticut river 
had been accounted the boundary, to the east, of the province 
of New York, dividing it from the adjoining one ; this divi- 
sion was specified in old patents, and confirmed by analogy. 
All at once, however, our new tenants-at-will made a discov- 
ery, or rather had a revelation, purporting, that there was a 
twenty-mile line, as they called it, which in old times had 
been carried thus far beyond the Connecticut river, into the 
bounds of what had ever been esteemed the province of New 
York. It had become extremely fashionable to question the 
limits of individual property, but for so bold a stroke at a 
whole province, people were not prepared. The consequence 
of estabhshing this point was, that thus the grants made by 
the province of New York, of lands not their own, could not 



256 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

be valid ; and thus the property, which had cost the owners 
so much to establish and survey, reverted to the other prov- 
ince, and was no longer theirs. This was so far beyond all 
imagination, that though there appeared not the smallest like- 
lihood of its succeeding, as the plea must in the end be car- 
ried to Britain, people stood aghast, and saw no safety in liv- 
ing among those who were capable of making such daring 
strides over all established usage, and were ready, on all oc- 
casions, to confederate where any advantage was in view, 
though ever engaged in litigious contentions with each other 
in their original home. This astonishing plea, during its de- 
pendence, afforded these dangerous neighbors a pretext to 
continue their usurped possession till it should be decided to 
which province the lands really belonged. They even carried 
their insolence so far, that when a particular friend of my 
father's, a worthy, upright man, named Munro, who possessed 
a large tract of land adjoining to his ; when this good man, 
who had established a settlement, saw-mills, &c., came to fix 
some tenants of his on his lands, a body of these incendia- 
ries came out, armed, to oppose them, trusting to their superior 
numbers and the peaceable disposition of our friend. Now, 
the fatal twenty-mile line ran exactly through the middle of 
my father's property. Had not the revolution followed so 
soon, there was no doubt of this claim being rejected in Bri- 
tain ; but in the mean time it served as a pretext for daily en- 
croachment and insolent bravadoes. Much of my father's 
disorder was owing to the great conflict in his mind. To give 
up every prospect of consequence and affluence, and return to 
Britain, leaving his property afloat among these ungovernable 
people, (to say no worse of them,) was very hard. Yet to live 
among them, and by legal coercion force his due out of their 
hands, was no pleasing prospect. His good angel, it would 
seem in the sequel, whispered to him to return. Though, in 
human prudence, it appeared a fatal measure to leave so valu- 
able a property in such hands, he thought, first, that he would 
stay two or three years ; and then, when others had vanquish- 
ed his antagonists, and driven them off the lands, which they, 
in the mean time, were busily clearing, he should return with 
a host of friends and kinsmen, and form a chosen society of 
his own. He however waited to see what change for the 
better another twelvemonth might produce. Madame, who 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 257 

was consulted on all his plans, did not greatly relish this ; he, 
at length, half promised to leave me with her, till he should 
return from this expedition. <• 

Returning for a short time to town in spring, I found Aunt's 
house much enlivened by a very agreeable visitor ; this was 
Miss W., daughter to the Honorable Mr. W. of the council. 
Her elder sister was afterwards countess of Cassilis, and she 
herself was not long afterwards married to the only native of 
the continent, I believe, who ever succeeded to the title of 
baronet. She possessed much beauty, understanding, and 
vivacity. Her playful humor exhilarated the whole house- 
hold. I regarded her with admiration and delight ; and her 
fanciful excursions afforded great amusement to Aunt, and 
were like a gleam of sunshine amidst the gloom occasioned 
by the spirit of contention which was let loose among all 
manner of people. 

The repeal of the stamp act having excited new hopes, my 
father found all his expectations of comfort and prosperity re- 
newed by this temporary calm, and the proposed return to 
Britain was deferred for another year. Aunt, to our great 
joy, as we scarce hoped she would again make so distant a 
visit, came out to the Flats with her fair visitor, who was 
about to return to New York. This lady, after going through 
many of the hardships to which persecuted loyalists were af- 
terwards exposed, with her husband, who lost an immense 
property in the service of government, is now with her fam- 
ily settled in Upper Canada, where Sir J. J n has obtain- 
ed a large grant of lands as a partial retribution for his great 
losses and faithful service. 

Aunt again requested and again obtained permission for 
me to pass some time with her ; and golden dreams of felici- 
ty at Clarendon again began to possess my imagination. I 
returned, however, soon to the Flats, where my presence be- 
came more important, as my father became less eager in pur- 
suit of field sports. 

22* 



258 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

CHAPTER LVIII. 

Mode of conveying Timber in rafts down the River. 

I BROUGHT out some volumes of Shakspeare with me, and, 
remembering the prohibition of reading plays promulgated the 
former winter, was much at a loss how to proceed. I thought 
rightly that it was owing to a temporary fit of spleen. But 
then I knew my father was, like all military men, tenacious 
of his authority, and would possibly continue it, merely be- 
cause he had once said so. I recollected that he said he 
would have no plays brought to the house ; and that I read 
them unchecked at Madame's, who was my model in all 
things. It so happened that the river had been higher than 
usual that spring, and in consequence, exhibited a succession 
of very amusing scenes. The settlers, whose increase above 
towards Stillwater had been for three years past incredibly 
great, set up sawmills on every stream, for the purpose of 
turning to account the fine timber, which they cleared in 
great quantities ofl' the new lands. The planks they drew 
in sledges to the side of the great river ; and when the sea- 
son arrived that swelled the stream to its greatest height, a 
whole neighborhood assembled, and made their joint stock 
into a large raft, which was floated down the river with a 
man or two on it, who, with long poles, were always ready 
to steer it clear of those islands or shallows which might 
impede its course. There is something serenely majestic 
in the early progress of those large bodies on the full stream 
of this copious river. Sometimes one sees a whole family 
transported on this simple conveyance ; the mother calmly 
spinning, the children sporting about her, and the father fish- 
ing on one end, and watching its safety at the same time. 
These rafts were taken down to Albany, and put on board 
vessels there for conveyance to New York ; sometimes, 
however, it happened that, as they proceeded very slowly, 
dry weather came on by the time they reached the Flats, and 
it became impossible to carry them further ; in that case, 
they were deposited in great triangular piles opposite our 
door. One of these, which was larger than ordinary, I se- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 259 

lected for a reading closet. There I safely lodged my Shak- 
speare ; and there, in my play-hours, I went to read it undis- 
turbed, with the advantage of fresh air, a cool shade, and a 
full view of the road on one side, and the beautiful river on 
the other. While I enjoyed undisturbed privacy, I had the 
prohibition full in my mind, but thought I should keep to the 
spirit of it by only reading the historical plays, comforting 
myself that they were true. These I read over and over 
with pleasure ever anew ; it was quite in my way, for I was 
familiarly acquainted with the English history : now, indeed, 
I began to relish Shakspeare, and to be astonished at my 
former blindness to his beauties. The contention of the rival 
roses occupied all my thoughts, and broke my rest. " Wind- 
changing Warwick" did not change oftener than I, but at 
length my compassion for holy Henry, and hatred to Richard, 
fixed me a Lancastrian. I began to wonder how anybody 
could exist without reading Shakspeare, and at length re- 
solved, at all risks, to make my father a sharer in my new- 
found felicity. Of the nature of taste I had not the least 
idea ; so far otherwise, that I was continually revolving be- 
nevolent plans to distribute some of the poetry I most de- 
lighted in, among the Bezaleels and Habakkuks of the twen- 
ty-mile line. I thought this would make them happy as my- 
self, and that, when they once felt the charm of " musical 
delight," the harsh language of contention would cease, and 
legal quibbling give way before the spirit of harmony. How 
often did I repeat Thomson's description of the golden age, 
concluding — 

" For music held the whole in perfect peace." 

At home, however, I was in some degree successful. My 
father did begin to take some interest in the Roses, and I 
was happy, yet kept both my secret and my closet, and made 
more and more advances in the study of these " wood notes 
wild." " As you like it," and " The Midsummer Night's 
Dream," enchanted me ; and I thought the comfort of my 
closet so great, that I dreaded nothing so much as a flood, 
that should occasion its being once more set in motion. I 
was one day deeply engaged in compassionating Othello, sit- 
ting on a plank, added on the outside of the pile, for strength- 
ening it, when, happening to lift my eyes, I saw a long ser- 



260 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

pent on the same board, at my elbow, in a threatening atti- 
tude, with its head lifted up. Othello and I ran oft* together 
with all imaginable speed ; and as that particular kind of 
snake seldom approaches any person, mdess the 'abode of its 
young is invaded. I began to fear I had been studying Shak- 
speare in a nest of serpents. Our faithful servant examined 
the place at my request. Under the very board on which I 
sat, when terrified by this unwished associate, was found a 
nest with seven eggs. After being most thankful for my es- 
cape, the next thing was to admire the patience and good hu- 
mor of the mother of this family, who permitted such a being 
as myself so long- to share her haunt with impunity. Indeed, 
the rural pleasures of this country were always liable to those 
drawbacks ; and this place was peculiarly infested with the 
familiar garter-snake, because the ruins of the burnt house 
aftbrded shelter and safety to these reptiles. 



CHAPTER LIX. 
The Swamp. — A Discovery. 



This adventure made me cautious of sitting out of doors, 
yet I daily braved a danger of the same nature, in the woods 
behind the house, which were my favorite haunts, and where 
I frequently saw snakes, yet was never pursued or annoyed 
by them. In this wood, half a mile from the house, was a 
swamp, which afforded a scene so totally unlike any thing 
else, that a description of it may amuse those who have never 
seen nature in that primitive state. 

This swamp, then, was in the midst of a pine wood, and 
was surrounded on two sides by little hills, some of which 
were covered with cedar, and others with the silver fir, very 
picturesque, and finely varied with shrubs, in every gradation 
of green. The swamp sunk into a hollow, like a large ba- 
sin, exactly circular ; round half of it was a border of maple, 
the other half was edged with poplar. No creature ever en- 
tered this place in summer ; its extreme softness kept it sa- 
cred from every human foot, for no one could go, wLthout the 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 261 

risk of being swallowed up ; different aquatic plants grew 
with great luxuriance in this quagmire, particularly bulrushes, 
and several beautiful species of the iris, and the alder and 
willow ; much of it, however, was open, and in different 
places the water seemed to form stagnant pools ; in many 
places large trees had fallen of old, which were now covered 
with moss, and afforded a home to numberless wild animals. 
In the midst of this aquatic retreat, were two small isl- 
ands of inconceivable beauty, that rose high above the rest, 
like the oasis of the deserts, and were dry and safe, though 
unapproachable. On one of these, I remember, grew three 
apple-trees, an occurrence not rare here ; for a squirrel, for 
instance, happens to drop the seeds of an apple in a spot at 
once sheltered and fertile ; at a lucky season, they grow and 
bear, though with less vigor and beauty than those which are 
cultivated. That beautiful fruit, the wild plum, was also 
abundant on these little sanctuaries, as they might be called; 
for, conscious of impunity, every creature that flies the pursuit 
of man, gambolled in safety here, and would allow one to 
gaze at them from the brink of this natural fortress. One 
would think a congress of birds and animals had assembled 
here ; never was a spot more animated and cheerful. There 
was nothing like it in the great forests ; creatures here, aware 
of their general enemy, man, had chosen it as- their last re- 
treat. The black, the large silver-gray, the little striped, and 
nimble flying-squirrel, were all at home here, and all visible 
in a thousand fantastic attitudes. Pheasants and woodpeckers 
in countless numbers, displayed their glowing plumage, and 
the songsters of the forest, equally conscious of their immu- 
nity, made the marsh resound with their blended music, while 
the fox, here a small auburn-colored creature, the martin, 
and raccoons, occasionally appeared and vanished through the 
foliage. Often, on pretence of bringing home the cows in 
the morning, (when in their own leisurely way they were 
coming themselves,) I used to go, accompanied by my faith- 
ful Marian, to admire this swamp, at once a menagerie and 
aviary, and might truly say with Burns — 

" My heart rejoiced in nature's joy." 
Not content, however, with the contemplation of animated 



262 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

nature, I began- to entertain a fancy, which almost grew into 
a passion, for explaining 
^. " " Every herb that sips the dew." 

The ordinary plants of that country differ very much from 
those most frequent here ; and this thirst for herbalizing, for 
I must not dignify my humble researches with the name of 
botanical ones, was a pleasing occupation. I made some pro- 
gress in discovering the names and natures of these plants, I 
mean their properties ; but unfortunately they were only In- 
dian or Dutch names. This kind of knowledge, in that de- 
gree, is easily acquired there, because every one possesses it 
in some measure. Nothing surprised me so much, when I 
came to Britain, as to see young people so incurious about 
nature. 

The woods behind our dwelling had been thinned to pro- 
cure firing, and were more open and accessible than such 
places generally are. Walking one fine summer's evening, 
with my usual attendant, a little farther into the wood than 
usual, but far from any known inhabitant, I heard peals of 
laughter, not joyous only, but triumphant, issue from the bot- 
tom, as it seemed, of a large pine. Silence succeeded, and 
we looked at each other with a mixture of fear and wonder, 
for it grew darkish. At last we made a whispered agreement 
to glide nearer among the bushes, and explore the source of 
all this merriment. Twilight, solemn everywhere, is awful 
in these forests ; our awe was presently increased by the ap- 
pearance of a light that glimmered and disappeared by turns. 
Loud laughter was again reiterated, and at length a voice 
cried, " How pretty he is !" while another answered in softer 
acceftts, " See how the dear creature runs !" We crept on, 
cheered by these sounds, and saw a handsome, good-natured 
looking man, in a ragged provincial uniform, sitting on a 
stump of a tree. Opposite, on the ground, sat a pretty little 
brunette woman, neatly, though meanly clad, with sparkling 
black eyes, and a countenance all vivacity and delight. A 
very little, very fair boy, with his mother's brilliant black 
eyes contrasting his flaxen hair and soft infantine complexion, 
went with tottering steps, that showed this was his first essay, 
from one to the other, and loud laughter gratulated his safe 
arrival in the arms of either parent. We had now pretty 



AJJD SCENERY IN AMERICA. 263 

clearly ascertained the family, the next thing was to discover 
the house ; this point was more difficult to establish ; at last, 
we found it was barely a place to sleep in, partly excavated 
from the ground, and partly covered with a slight roof of bark 
and branches. Never was poverty so complete or so cheerful. 
In that country, every white person had inferiors, and there- 
fore, being merely white, claimed a degree of respect ; and 
being very rich, or very fine, entitled you to very little more. 
Simplicity would be a charming thing, if one could strain it 
from grossness, but that, I believe, is no easy operation. We 
now, with much consideration and civility, presented our- 
selves ; I thought the cows would afford a happy opening for 
conversation. " Don't be afraid of noise, we are driving our 
three cows home ; have you any cows ?" " Och no, my 
dare child, not one, young miss," said the soldier. " O, but 
then mamma will give milk to the child, for we have plenty, 
and no child." " O dear, pretty miss, don't mind that at all, at 
all." " Come," said the mistress of the hovel, " we have got fine 
buttermilk here, froiti Stephen's — come in and take a drink." 
I civilly declined this invitation, being wholly intent on the 
child, who appeared to me like a smiling love, and at once 
seized on my affection. Patrick Coonie, for such was the 
name of our new neighbor, gave us his history in a very few 
words. He had married Kate in Pennsylvania, who, young 
as she looked, had three children, from ten to fourteen, or 
thereabouts ; he had some trade which had not thriven, he 
listed in the provincials, spent what he had on his family ; 
hired again, served another campaign, came down penniless, 
and here they had come for a temporary shelter, to get work 
among their neighbors. The excavation existed before, Pat- 
rick happily discovered it, and added the ingenious roof which 
now covered it. 1 asked for their other children ; they were 
in some mean service. I was all anxiety for Patrick, so was 
not he ; the lilies of the field did not look gayet, or more 
thoughtless of to-morrow, and Kate seemed equally uncon- 
cerned. 

Hastily were the cows driven home that night, and to pre- 
vent reproaches for delay, I flew to communicate my discov- 
ery, eager to say how ill off we often were for an occasional 
hand, to assist with our jobs, and how well we could spare a 
certain neglected log-house on our premises, &c. This was 



264 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

treated as very chimerical at first, but when Patrick's family- 
had undergone a survey, and Kate's accomplishments of spin- 
ning, &c., were taken into consideration, to my unspeakable 
joy, the family were accommodated as I wished, and their 
several talents made known to our neighbors, who kept them 
in constant business. Kate spun and sung like a lark; little 
Paddy was mostly with us, for I taught every one in the house 
to be fond of him. 

I was at the utmost loss for something to cherish and 
caress, when this most amusing creature, who inherited all 
the gayety and good temper of his parents, came in my way, 
as the first of possible playthings. Patrick was, of all things, 
the most handy and obliging ; he could do every thing, but 
then he could drink too, and the extreme cheapness of liquor 
was a great snare to poor creatures addicted to it ; Patrick, 
however, had long lucid intervals, and I had the joy of seeing 
them comparatively happy. To this was added, that of see- 
ing my father recover his spirits, and renew his usual sports, 
and moreover, I was permitted to return'to Aunt Schuyler's. 
I did not fail to entertain her with the history of my discovery, 
and its consequences, and my tale was not told in vain. 
Aunt weighed and balanced all things in her mind, and drew 
some good out of every thing. 

White servants, whom very few people had, were very ex- 
pensive here ; but there was a mode of meliorating things. 
Poor people who came adventurers from other countries, and 
found a settlement a slower process than they were aware of, 
had got into a mode of apprenticing their children. No risk 
attended this in Albany ; custom is all-powerful ; and lenity 
to servants was so much the custom, that to ill-use a defence- 
less creature in your power was reckoned infamous, and was 
indeed unheard-of. Aunt recommended the young Coonies, 
who were fine, well-looking children, for apprentices to some 
of the best families in town, where they were well bred and 
well treated, and we all contributed decent clothing for them 
to go home in. I deeply felt this obligation, and little thought 
how soon I was to be deprived of all the happiness I owed to 
the friendship of my dear benefactress. This accession oc- 
cupied and pleased me exceedingly ; my attachment to the 
little boy grew hourly, and I indulged it to a degree I cer- 
tainly would not have done, if I had not set him down for 



AND SCENERY IX AMERICA. 265 

one of the future inhabitants of Clarendon ; that region of fan- 
cied felicity, where I was building log-houses in the air 
perpetually, and filling them with an imaginary population, 
innocent and intelligent beyond all comparison. These vis- 
ions, however, were soon destined to give way to sad re- 
alities. The greatest immediate tribulation I was liable to, 
was Patrick's coming home now and then gay beyond his 
wonted gayety, which grieved me both on Kate's account 
and that of little Paddy : but in the fertile plains of Claren- 
don, remedies were to be found for every passing evil ; and I 
had not the least doubt of having influence enough to prevent 
the admission of spirituous liquors into that " region of calm 
delights." Such were the dreams from which I was awaken- 
ed (on returning from a long visit to Aunt) by my father's 
avowing his fixed intention to return home. 

A very worthy Argyleshire friend of his, in the mean time, 
came and paid him a visit of a month ; which month was oc- 
cupied in the most endearing recollections of Lochawside, 
and the hills of Morven. When I returned, I heard of noth- 
ing but the Alpine scenes of Scotland, of which I had not the 
smallest recollection ; but which I loved with borrowed en- 
thusiasm so well, that they at times balanced with Claren- 
don. My next source of comfort was, that I was to return to 
the land of light and freedom, and mingle, as I flattered my- 
self I should, with such as those whom I had admired in their 
immortal works. Determined to be happy, with the sanguine 
eagerness of youth, the very opposite materials served for 
constructing another ideal fabric. 



CHAPTER LX. 

Mrs. Schuyler's view of the Conthiental politics. 

Aunt was extremely sorry when the final determination 
was announced. She had now her good sister-in-law, Mrs. 
Wendell, with her, and seemed much to enjoy the society of 
that meek, pious woman, who was as happy as any thing 
earthly could make her. As to public aflfairs, their aspect did 

•J3 



266 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



not please her ; and therefore she endeavored, as far as pos- 
sible, to withdraw her attention from them. She was too well 
acquainted with the complicated nature of human affairs, to 
give a rash judgment on the political disputes then in agita- 
tion. She saw indeed reason for apprehension whatever way 
she turned. She knew the prejudices and self-opinion fast 
spreading through the country too well, to expect .quiet sub- 
mission, and could see nothing on all hands but a choice of 
evils. Were the provinces to set up for themselves, she 
thought they had not coherence or subordination enough 
among them to form, or to submit to any salutary plan of gov- 
ernment. On the other hand, she saw no good effect likely 
to result from a reluctant dependence on a distant people, 
whom they already began to hate, though hitherto nursed and 
protected by them. She clearly foresaw that no mode of 
taxation could be invented to which they would easily sub- 
mit ; and that the defence of the continent from enemies, and 
keeping the necessary military force to protect the weak and 
awe the turbulent, would be a perpetual drain of men and 
money to Great Britain, still increasing with the increased 
population. In short, she held all the specious plans that 
were talked over very cheap ; while her affection for Britain 
made her shudder at the most distant idea of a separation ; 
yet not as supposing such a step very hurtful to this country, 
which would be thus freed of a very costly incumbrance. But 
the dread of future anarchy, the horrors of civil war, and the 
dereliction of principle which generally results from tumultu- 
ary conflicts, were the spectres with which she was haunted. 
Having now once for all given (to the best of my recollec- 
tion) a faithful sketch of Aunt's opinions on this intricate sub- 
ject, I shall not recur to them, nor by any means attempt to 
enter into any detail of the dark days that were approaching. 
First, because I feel unspeakable pain in looking Ijack upon 
occurrences that I know too well, though I was not there to 
witness ; in which the friends of my early youth were greatly 
involved, and had much indeed to endure, on both sides. 
Next, because there is little satisfaction in narrating transac- 
tions where there is no room to praise either side. That 
waste of personal courage and British blood and treasure, 
which were squandered to no purpose on one side in that ill- 
conducted war, and the insolence and cruelty which tarnished 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 267 

the triumph of the other, form no pleasing subject of retro- 
spection ; while the unsuccessful and often unrewarded loy- 
alty of the sufferers for gov^ernment, cannot be recollected 
without the most wounding regret. The years of Madame, 
after I parted with her, were involved in a cloud raised by 
the conflicts of contending arms, which I vainly endeavored 
to penetrate. My account of her must, therefore, in a great 
measure, terminate with this sad year. My father taking in 
spring decided measures for leaving America, intrusted his 
lands to the care of his friend John Munro, Esq., then residing 
near Clarendon, and chief magistrate of that newly-peopled 
district, a very worthy friend and countryman of his own, who 
was then in high triumph on account of a fancied conquest 
over the supporters of the twenty^-mile line ; and thought, 
when that point v/as fully established, there would be no fur- 
ther obstruction to their realizing their property to great ad- 
vantage, or colonizing it from Scotland, if such should be their 
wish. Aunt leaned hard to the latter expedient, but my father 
could not think of leaving me behind to await the chance of 
his return ; and I had been talked into a wish for revisiting 
the land of my nativity. 

I left my domestic favorites with great pain, but took care 
to introduce them to Aunt, and implored her, with all the pa- 
thos twas mistress of, to take an interest in them when I 
was gone ; which she very good-naturedly promised to do. 
Another very kind thing she did. Once a year she spent a 
day or two at General Schuyler's ; I call him by his later-ac- 
quired title, to distinguish him from the number of his name- 
sakes I have had occasion to mention. She now so timed 
her visit (though in dreadful weather) that I might accompany 
her, and take my last farewell of my young companions there : 
yet I could not bring myself to think it a final one. The ter- 
rible words, no more^ never passed my lips. I had too buoyant 
a spirit to encounter a voluntary heartache by looking on the 
dark side of any thing, and always figured myself returning, 
and joyfully received by the friends with whom I was part- 
ing. 



268 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



CHAPTER LXI. 

Description of the breaking up of the Ice on the Hudson river. 

Soon after this I witnessed, for the last time, the sublime 
spectacle of the ice breaking up on the river ; an object that 
fills and elevates the mind with ideas of power, and gran- 
deur, and, indeed, magnificence ; before which all the tri- 
umphs of human art sink into contemptible insignificance. 
This noble object of animated greatness, for such it seemed, 
I never missed ; its approach being announced, like a loud 
and long peal of thunder, the whole population of iiVlbany 
were down at the river-side in a moment ; and if it happened, 
as was often the case, in the morning, there could not be a 
more grotesque assemblage. No one who had a nightcap on 
waited to put it off"; as for waiting for one's cloak, or gloves, 
it was a thing out of the question ; you caught the thing next 
you, that could wrap round you, and ran. In the way you 
saw every door left open, and pails, baskets, &c., without 
number, set down in the street. It was a perfect saturnalia. 
People never dreamed of being obeyed by their slaves, till 
the ice was past. The houses were left quite empty ; the 
meanest slave, the youngest child, all were to be found on 
the shore. Such as. could walk, ran ; and they that could 
not, were carried by those whose duty would have been to 
stay and attend them. When arrived at the show-place, un- 
like the audience collected to witness any spectacle of hu- 
man invention, the multitude, with their eyes all bent one 
way, stood immoveable, and silent as death, till the tumult 
ceased, and the mighty commotion was passed by ; then ev- 
ery one tried to give vent to the vast conceptions with which 
his mind had been distended. Every child, and every ne- 
gro, was sure to say, " Is not this like the day of judgment?" 
and what they said every one else thought. Now to describe 
this is impossible ; but I mean to account, in some degree, 
for it. The ice, which had been all winter very thick, in- 
stead of diminishing, as might be expected in spring, still 
increased, as the sunshine came, and the days lengthened. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 269 

Much snow fell in February, which, melted by the heat of 
the sun, was stagnant for a day on the surface of the ice, 
and then by the night frosts, which were still severe, was 
added, as a new accession to the thickness of it, above the 
former surface. This was so often repeated, that, in some 
years, the ice gained two feet in thickness, after the heat of 
the sun became such as one would have expected should 
have entirely dissolved it. So conscious were the natives 
of the safety this accumulation of ice afforded, that the 
sledges continued to drive on the ice when the trees were 
budding, and everything looked like spring ; nay, when there 
w^as so much melted on the surface that the horses were 
knee-deep in water while travelling on it, and portentous 
cracks on every side announced the approaching rupture. 
This could scarce have been produced by the mere influence 
of the sun till midsummer. It was the swelling of the wa- 
ters under the ice, increased by rivulets, enlarged by melted 
snows, that produced this catastrophe ; for such the awful 
concussion made it appear. The prelude to the general 
bursting of this mighty mass, was a fracture, lengthways, in 
the middle of the stream, produced by the effort of the im- 
prisoned waters, now increased too much to be contained 
within their wonted bounds. Conceive a solid mass, from 
six to eight feet thick, bursting for many miles in one con- 
tinued rupture, produced by a force inconceivably great, and, 
in a manner, inexpressibly sudden. Thunder is no ade- 
quate image of this awful explosion, which roused all the 
sleepers, within the reach of the sound, as completely as the 
final convulsion of nature, and the solemn peal of the awa- 
kening trumpet, might be supposed to do. The stream in 
summer was confined by a pebbly strand, overhung with 
high and steep banks, crowned with lofty trees, which were 
considered as a sacred barrier against the encroachments of 
this annual visitation. Never dryads dwelt in more security 
than those of the vine-clad elms", that extended their ample 
branches over this mighty stream. Their tangled roots, laid 
bare by the impetuous torrents, formed caverns ever fresh 
and fragrant ; where the most delicate plants flourished, un- 
visited by scorching suns, or snipping blasts ; and nothing 
could be more singular than the variety of plants and birds 
that were sheltered in these intricate and safe recesses. 



270 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

But when the bursting of the crystal surface set loose the 
many waters that had rushed down, swollen with the annual 
tribute of dissolving snow, the islands and low lands were all 
flooded in an instant ; and the lofty banks, from which you 
were wont to overlook the stream, were now entirely tilled 
by an impetuous torrent, bearing dov/n, with incredible and 
tumultuous rage, immense shoals of ice ; which, breaking 
every instant by the concussion of others, jammed together 
in some places, in others erecting themselves in gigantic 
heights for an instant in the air, and seeming to combat with 
their fellow-giants crowding on in all directions, and falling 
together with an inconceivable crash, formed a terrible mov- 
ing picture, animated and various beyond conception ; for it 
was not only the cerulean ice, whose broken edges, combat- 
ing with the stream, refracted light into a thousand rainbows, 
that charmed your attention, lofty pines, large pieces of the 
bank torn off by the ice with all their early green and ten- 
der foliage, were driven on like travelling islands, amid this 
battle of breakers, for such it seemed. I am absurdly at- 
tempting to paint a scene, under which the powers of lan- 
guage sink. Suffice it, that this year its solemnity was in- 
creased by an unusual quantity of snov/, which the last hard 
winter had accumulated, and the dissolution of which now 
threatened an inundation. 

Solemn indeed it was to me, as the memento of my ap- 
proaching journey, which was to take place whenever the 
ice broke, this being here a kind of epoch. The parting 
with all that I loved at the Flats was such an affliction, as it 
is even yet a renewal of sorrows to recollect. I loved the 
very barn and the swamp I have described so much that I 
could not see them for the last time without a pang. As for 
the island and the bank of the river, I know not how I 
should have parted with them, if I had thought the parting 
final ; the good kind neighbors, and my faithful and most af- 
fectionate Marian, to whom of all others this separation was 
most wounding, grieved me not a little. I was always san- 
guine in the extreme, and would hope against hope ; but 
Marian, who was older, and had more common sense, knew 
too well how little likelihood there was of my ever returning. 
Often with streaming eyes and bursting sobs she begged to 
know if the soul of a person dying in America could find 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 271 

its way over the vast ocean to join that of those who rose to 
the abodes of future bliss from Europe ; her hope of a re- 
union being now entirely referred to that in a better world. 
There was no truth I found it so difficult to impress upon her 
mind as the possibility of spirits being instantaneously trans- 
ported from one distant place to another ; a doctrine which 
seemed to her very comfortable. Her agony at the final 
parting I do not like to think of. When I used to obtain 
permission to pass a little time in town, I was transported 
with the thoughts of the enjoyments that awaited me in the 
society of my patroness, and the young friends I most loved ; 
but now all was vapid and joyless, and in scenes the most 
desirable my whole mind was occupied by the pleasing past 
and the dubious future. 



CHAPTER LXII. 

Departure from Albany.— Origin of the State of Vermont. 

After quitting the Flats we were to stay for some days at 
Madame's, till we should make a circular visit and take leave. 
Having lulled my disappointment with regard to Clarendon, 
and filled all my dreams with images of Clydesdale and 
Tweedale, and every other vale or dale that was the haunt 
of the pastoral muse in Scotland, I grew pretty well recon- 
ciled to my approaching. journey ; thinking I should meet 
piety and literature in every cottage, and poetry and music in 
every recess, among the sublime scenery of my native moun- 
tains. At any rate, I was sure I should hear the larks sing, 
and see the early primrose deck the woods, and daisies enamel 
the meadows ; on all which privileges I had been taught to 
set the due value. Yet I wondereji very much how it was 
that I could enjoy nothing with such gay visions opening be- 
fore me. My heart, I suppose, was honester than my imagi- 
nation, for it refused to take pleasure in any thing ; which 
was a state of mind so new to me that I could not und^fstand 
it. Everywhere I was caressed, and none of these caresses 



272 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

gave me pleasure. At length the sad day came when I was 
to take the last farewell of my first best friend, who had often 
in vain urged my parents to leave me till they should decide 
whether to stay or return. About this they did not hesitate ; 
nor, if they had, could I have divested myself of the desire 
now waked in my mind of seeing once more my native land, 
which I merely loved upon trust, not having the faintest 
recollection of it. 

Madame embraced me tenderly, with many tears, at part- 
ing ; and I felt a kind of prelusive anguish, as if I had antici- 
pated the sorrows that awaited — I do not mean now the pain- 
ful vicissitudes of after life, but merely the cruel disappoint- 
ment that I felt in finding the scenery and its inhabitants so 
diff'erent from the Elysian vales and Arcadian swains that I 
had imagined. 

When we came away, by an odd coincidence. Aunt's nephew 
Peter was just about to be married to a very fine young crea- 
ture, whom his relations did not, for some reason that I do 
not remember, think suitable ; while, at the very same time, 
her niece, Miss W., had captivated the son of a rich but ava- 
ricious man, who would not consent to his marrying her un- 
less Aunt gave a fortune with her, which being an unusual 
demand, she did not choose to comply with. I was the proud 
and happy confidant of both these lovers ; and before we left 
New York, we heard that each had married without waiting 
for the withheld consent. And thus for once was Madame 
left without d. -protegee. But still she had her sister W., and 
soon acquired a new set of children, the orphan sons of her 
nephew Cortlandt Schuyler, who continued under her care 
for the remainder of her life. 

My voyage down the river, which was by contrary winds 
protracted to a whole week, would have been very pleasant, 
could any thing have pleased me. I was at least soothed by 
the extreme beauty of many scenes on the banks of this fine 
stream, which I was fated never more to behold. 

Nothing could exceed the soft grateful verdure that met the 
eye on every side as we approached New York : it was in 
the beginning of May, the great orchards which rose on every 
slope were all in bloom, and the woods of poplar beyond them 
had th^ir sprouting foliage tinged with a lighter shade of the 
freshest green. Staten Island rose gradually from the sea in 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 273 

which it seemed to float, and was so covered with innumera- 
ble fruit-trees in full blossoai, that it looked like some en- 
chanted forest, I shall not attempt to describe a place so 
well known as New York, but merely content myself with 
saying that I was charmed with the air of easy gayety and 
social kindness that seemed to prevail everywhere among the 
people, and the cheerful, animated appearance of the place 
altogether. Here I fed the painful longings of my mind, 
which already began to turn impatiently towards Madame, by 
conversing with young people whom I had met at her house 
on their summer excursions. These were most desirous to 
please and amuse me ; and though I knew little of good 
breeding, I had good nature enough to try to seem pleased, 
but in fact I enjoyed nothing. Though I saw there was much 
to enjoy had my mind been tuned as usual to social delight, 
fatigued with the kindness of others and my own simulation, 
I tried to forget my sorrows in sleep ; but night, that was 
wont to bring peace and silence in her train, had no such 
companions here. The spirit of discord had broken loose. 
The fermentation had begun that has not yet ended. At 
midnight, bands of intoxicated electors, who were then choos- 
ing a member for the Assembly, came thundering to the doors, 
demanding a vote for their favored candidate. An hour after, 
another party, equally A^ociferous and not more sober, alarmed 
us by insisting on our giving our votes for their favorite com- 
petitor. This was mere play ; but before we embarked, there 
was a kind of prelusive skirmish that strongly marked the 
spirit of the times. These patriots had taken it into their 
heads that Lieutenant-governor Golden sent home intelligence 
of their proceedings, or in some other way betrayed them, as 
they thought, to government. In one of those fits of excess 
and fury which are so often the result of popular elections, 
they went to his house, drew out his coach, and set fire to it. 
This was the night before we embarked, after a week's stay 
in New York. 

My little story being no longer blended with the memoirs 
of my benefactress, I shall not trouble the reader with the 
account of our melancholy and perilous voyage. Here, too, 
with regret, I must close the account of what I knew of Aunt 
Schuyler. I heard very little of her till the breaking out of 
this disastrous war, which every one, whatever side they may 



274 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

have taken at the time, must look back on with disgust and 
horror. , 

To tell the history of Aunt during the years that her life 
was prolonged to witness scenes abhorrent to her feelings 
and her principles, would be a painful task indeed, even if I 
were better informed than I am, or wish to be, of the trans- 
actions of those perturbed times. Of her private history I 
only know that on the accidental death, formerly mentioned, 
of her nephew Capt. Cortlandt Schuyler, she took home his 
two eldest sons, and kept them with her till her own death, 
which happened in 1778 or 1779. I know, too, that like the 
Roman Atticus, she kept free from the violence and bigotry 
of party ; and like him, too, kindly and liberally assisted 
those of each side who, as the tide of success ran different 
ways, were considered as unfortunate. On this subject I do 
not choose to enlarge, but shall merely observe, that all the 
colonel's relations were on the republican side, while every 
one of her own nephews adhered to the royal cause, to their 
very great loss and detriment ; though some of them have 
now found a home in Upper Canada, where, if they are alien- 
ated from their native province, they have at least the conso- 
lation of meeting many other deserving people whom the fury 
of party had driven thither for refuge.* 

Though unwilling to obtrude upon my reader any further 
particulars irrelevant to the main story I have endeavored to 
detail, he may perhaps be desirous to know how the township 
of Clarendon was at length disposed of. My father's friend, * 
Capt. Munro, was engaged for himself and his military friends 
in a litigation ; or I should rather say, the provinces of New 
York and Connecticut continued to dispute the right to the 
boundary within the twenty-mile line, till a dispute still more 
serious gave spirit to the new settlers from Connecticut to 

* Since writing the above, the author of this narrative lias heard many 
particulars of the later years of her good friend, by which it appears that 
to the last her loyalty and public spirit burned with a clear and steady 
flame. She was by that time too venerable, as well as re.'^pectable, to be 
insulted for her principles ; and her opinions were always delivered in a 
manner firm and calm, like her own mind, which was too well regulated 
to admit the rancor of party, and too dignified to stoop to disguise of any 
kind. She died full of years, and honored by all who could or could not 
appreciate her worth ; for not to esteem Aunt Schuyler was to forfeit all 
pretensions to estimation. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 275 

rise in arms and expel the unfortunate loyalists from that dis- 
trict, which was bounded on one side by the Green mountain, 
since distinguished, like Rome in its infancy, as a place of 
refuge to all the lawless and uncontrollable spirits who had 
banished themselves from general society. 

It was a great mortification to speculative romance and 
vanity, for me to consider that the very spot which I had 
been used fondly to contemplate as the future abode of peace, 
innocence, and all the social virtues, that this very spot should 
be singled out from all others as a refuge for the vagabonds 
and banditti of the continent. They were, however, distin- 
guished by a kind of desperate bravery and unconquerable 
obstinacy. They, at one time, set the States, and the mother 
country, equally at defiance, and set up for an independence 
of their own ; on this occasion they were so troublesome, and 
the others so tame, that the last-mentioned were fain to pur- 
chase their nominal submission by a most disgraceful conces- 
sion. There was a kind of provision made for all the British 
subjects who possessed property in the alienated provinces, 
provided that they had not borne arms against the Americans ; 
these were permitted to sell their lands, though not for their 
full value, but at a limited price. My father came precisely 
under this description ; but the Green-ijiountain boys, as the 
irregular inhabitants of the disputed boundaries were then 
called, conscious that all the lands they had forcibly usurped 
were liable to this kind of claim, set up the standard of inde- 
pendence. They indeed positively refused to confederate 
with the rest, or consent to the proposed peace, unless the 
robbery they had committed should be sanctioned by a law, 
giving them a full right to retain, unquestioned, this violent 
acquisition. 

It is doubtful, of three parties, who were most to blame on 
this occasion. The depredators, who, in defiance of even 
natural equity, seized and erected this little petulant state ; 
the mean concession of the other provinces, who, after per- 
mitting this one to set their authority at defiance, soothed 
them into submission by a gift of what was not theirs to be- 
stow ; or the tame acquiescence of the then ministry, in an 
arrangement which deprived faithful subjects, who were at 
the same time warworn veterans, of the reward assigned 
them for their services. 



276 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

Proud of the resemblaiice which their origin bore to that 
of ancient Rome, they Latinized the common appellation of 
their territory, and made wholesome laws for its regulation. 
Thus began the petty state of Vermont, and thus ends the 
history of an heiress. 



CHAPTER LXIIL 

General Reflections. 



I HOPE my readers will share the satisfaction I feel, in 
contemplating, at this distance, the growing prosperity of Al- 
bany, which is, I am told, greatly increased in size and con- 
sequence, far superior, indeed, to any inland town on the 
continent, and so important, from its centrical situation, that 
it has been proposed as the seat of Congress, which, should 
the party attached to Britain ever gain the ascendency over 
the southern States, would, very probably, be the case ; the 
morality, simple marttiers, and consistent opinions of the in- 
habitants still bearing evident traces of that integrity and 
simplicity which once distinguished them. The reflections 
which must result from the knowledge of these circum- 
stances are so obvious, that it is needless to point them out. 

A reader that has patience to proceed thus far, in a narra- 
tion too careless and desultory for the grave, and too heavy 
and perplexed for the gay, too minute for the busy, and too 
serious for the idle ; such a reader must have been led on by 
an interest in the virtues of the leading character, and will 
be sufficiently awake to their remaining eflfects. 

Very different, however, must be the reflections that arise 
from a more general view of the present state of our ancient 
colonies. 

•' O for that warning voice, which he who saw 
Th' Apocalypse, heard cry, That a voice, Hke 
The deep and dreadful organ-pipe of Heaven," . 

would speak terror to those whose delight is in change and 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 277 



agitation ; to those who wantonly light up the torch of dis- 
cord, which many waters will not extinguish. Even when 
peace succeeds to the breathless fury of such a contest, it 
comes too late to restore the virtues, the hopes, the affections 
that have perished in it. The gangrene of the land is not 
healed, and the prophets vainly cry peace ! peace ! where 
there is no peace. 

However upright the intentions may be of the first leaders 
of popular insurrections, it may be truly said of them, in the 
end, instruments of cruelty are in their habitations ; nay, must 
be, for when they have proceeded a certain length, concilia- 
tion or lenity would be cruelty to their followers, who are 
gone too far to return to the place from which they set out. 
Rectitude, hitherto upheld by laws, by custom, and by fear, 
now walks alone, in unaccustomed paths, and like a tottering 
infant, falls at the first assault, or first obstacle it meets ; but 
falls to rise no more. Let any one, who has mixed much 
with mankind, say what would be the consequence if restraint 
were withdrawn, and impunity offered to all whose probity 
is not fixed on the basis of real piety, or supported by singu- 
lar fortitude, and that sound sense, which, discerning remote 
consequences, preserves integrity as armor of proof against 
the worst that can happen. 

True it is, that amidst these convulsions of the moral world, 
exigences bring out some characters that sweep across the 
gloom like meteors in a tempestuous night, which would not 
have been distinguished in the sunshine of prosperity. It is 
in the swell of the turbulent ocean that the mightiest living 
handiworks of the Author of nature are to be met with. 
Great minds no doubt are called out by exigences, and put 
forth all their powers. Though Hercules slew the Hydra, 
and cleansed the Auga^an stable, all but poets and heroes 
must have regretted that any such monsters existed. Seri- 
ously, beside the rancor, the treachery, and the dereliction 
of every generous sentiment and upright motive, which are 
the rank production of the blood-manured field of civil dis- 
cord, after the froth and feculence of its caldron have boiled 
over, still the deleterious dregs remain. Truth is the first 
victim to fear and policy. When matters arrive at that crisis, 
every one finds a separate interest ; mutual confidence, which 
cannot outlive sincerity, dies next, and all the kindred virtues 

21 



278 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

drop in succession. It becomes a man's interest that his 
brothers and his father should join the opposite party, that 
some may be applauded for steadiness, or enriched by con- 
fiscations. To such temptations, the mind, fermenting with 
party hatred, yields with less resistance than could be im- 
agined by those who have never witnessed such scenes of 
horror darkened by duplicity. After so deep a plunge in de- 
pravity, how difficult, how near to impossible, is a return to 
the paths of rectitude ! This is but a single instance of the 
manner in which moral feeling is undermined in both parties. 
But as our nature, destined to suffer 'and to mourn, and to 
have the heart made better by affliction, finds adversity a less 
dangerous trial than prosperity, especially where it is great 
and sudden, in all civil conflicts the triumphant party may, 
with moral truth, be said to be the greatest sufferers. Intox- 
icated, as they often are, with power and affluence, purchased 
with the blood and tears of their friends and countrymen, 
the hard task remains to them of chaining up and reducing to 
submission the many-headed monster, whom they have been 
forced to let loose and gorge with the spoils of the vanquish- 
ed. Then, too, comes on the difficulty of dividing power 
where no one has a right, and every one a claim : of ruling 
those whom they have taught to despise authority ; and of 
reviving that sentiment of patriotism, and that love of glory, 
which faction and self-interest have extinguished. 

When the white and red roses were the symbols of faction 
in England, and when the contest between Baliol and Bruce 
made way for invasion and tyranny in Scotland, the destruc- 
tion of armies and of cities, public executions, plunder and 
confiscations, were the least evils that they occasioned. The 
annihilation of public virtue and private confidence ; the ex- 
asperation of hereditary hatred ; the corrupting the milk of 
human kindness, and breaking asunder every sacred tie by 
which man and man are held together : all these dreadful re- 
sults of civil discord are the means of visiting the sins of civil 
war on the third and fourth generations of those who have 
kindled it. Yet the extinction of charity and kindness in dis- 
sensions like these, is not to be compared to that which is the 
consequence of an entire subversion of the accustomed form 
of government. Attachment to a monarch or line of royalty 
aims only at a single object, and is at worst loyalty and fidel- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 279 

ity misplaced ; yet war once begun on such a motive loosens 
the bands of society, and opens to the ambitious and the rapa- 
cious the way to power and plunder. Still, however, the 
laws, the customs, and the frame of government stand where 
they did. When the contest is decided, and the successful 
competitor established, if the monarch possesses ability and 
courts popularity, he, or at any rate, his immediate successor, 
may rule happily, and reconcile those who were the enemies, 
not of his place, but of his person. The mighty image of 
sovereign power may change its " head of gold" for one of 
silver ; but still it stands firm on its basis, supported by all 
those whom it protects. But when thrown from its pedestal 
by an entire subversion of government, the wreck is far more 
fatal, and the traces indelible. Those who on each side sup- 
port the heirs claiming a disputed crown, mean equally to be 
faithful and loyal to their rightful sovereign ; and are thus, 
though in opposition to each other, actuated by the same sen- 
timent. But when the spirit of extermination walks forth 
over prostrate thrones and altars, ages cannot efface the traces 
of its progress. A contest for sovereignty is a whirlwind, 
that rages hercely while it continues, and deforms the face of 
external nature. New houses, however, replace those it has 
demolished ; trees grow up in the place of those destroyed ; 
the landscape laughs, the birds sing, and every thing returns 
to its accustomed course. But a total subversion of a long- 
established government is like an earthquake, that not only 
overturns the works of man, but changes the wonted course 
and operations of the very elements; makes a gulf in the 
midst of a fertile plain, casts a mountain into a lake, and in 
fine, produces such devastation as it is not in the power of 
man to remedy. Indeed, it is too obvious that, even in our 
own country, that fire which produced the destruction of the 
monarchy, still glows among the ashes of extinguished fac- 
tions ; but that portion of the community who carried with 
them across the Atlantic, the repugnance to submission which 
grew out of an indefinite love of liberty, might be compared 
to the Persian magi. Like them, when forced to fly from 
their native country, they carried with them a portion of that 
hallowed fire, which continued to be the object of their secret 
worship. Those who look upon the revolution, of which this 
spirit was the prime mover, as tending to advance the eeneral 



280 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

happiness, no doubt consider these opinions as a rich inherit- 
ance, productive of the best effects. Many wise and worthy 
persons have thought, and still continue to think so. There 
is as yet no room for decision, the experiment not being com- 
pleted. Their mode of government, anomalous and hitherto 
inefficient, has not yet acquired the firmness of cohesion, or 
the decisive tone of authority. 

The birth of this great empire is a phenomenon in the his- 
tory of mankind. There is nothing like it in reality or fable, 
but that of Minerva, who proceeded full-armed and full-grown 
out of the head of the thunderer. Population, arts, sciences, 
and laws, extension of territory, and establishment of power, 
have been gradual and progressive in other countries, where 
the current of dominion went on increasing as it flowed, by 
conquests or other acquisitions, which it swallowed like rivu- 
lets in its course ; but here it burst forth like a torrent, spread- 
ing itself at once into an expanse, vast as their own Superior 
lake, before the eyes of the passing generation which witness- 
ed its birth. Yet it is wonderful how little talent or intellec- 
tual pre-eminence of any kind has appeared in this new-born 
world, which seems already old in worldly craft, and whose 
children are indeed " wiser in their generation than the chil- 
dren of light." Self-interest, eagerly grasping at pecuniary 
advantages, seems to be the ruling principle of this great con- 
tinent. 

Love of country, that amiable and noble sentiment, which 
by turns exalts and softens the human mind, nourishes enthu- 
siasm, and inspires alike the hero and the sage, to defend and 
adorn the sacred land of their nativity, is a principle which 
hardly exists there. An American loves his country, or pre- 
fers it rather, because its rivers are wide and deep, and 
abound in fish ; because he has the forests to retire to if the 
god of gainful commerce should prove unpropitious on the 
shore. He loves it because if his negro is disrespectful, or 
disobedient, he can sell him and buy another ; while if he 
himself is disobedient to the laws of his country, or disre- 
spectful to the magistracy appointed to enforce them, that 
shadow of authority, without power to do good, or prevent 
evil, must possess its soul in patience. 

We love our country because we honor our ancestors ; be- 
cause it is endeared to us not only by early habit, but by at- 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 281 

tachment to the spots hallowed by their piety, their heroism, 
their genius, or their public spirit. We honor it as the scene 
of noble deeds, the nurse of sages, bards, and heroes. The 
very aspect and features of this blest asylum of liberty, sci- 
ence, and religion, warm our hearts, and animate our imagina- 
tions. Enthusiasm kindles at the thoughts of what we have 
been, and what we are. It is the last retreat, the citadel, in 
which all that is worth living for is concentrated. Among the 
other ties which were broken by the detachment of America 
from us, that fine ligament, which binds us to the tombs of our 
ancestors, (and seems to convey to us the spirit and the affec- 
tions we derive from them,) was dissolved ; with it perished 
all generous emulation. Fame, 

" Tliat spur which the clear mind doth raise 
To Uve laborious nights and painful days," 

has no votaries among the students of Poor Richard's Alma- 
nac, the great Pharos of the states. The land of their an- 
cestors, party hostility has taught them to regard with scorn 
and hatred. That in which they live calls up no images of 
past glory or excellence. Neither hopeful nor desirous of 
that after existence which has been most coveted by those 
who do things worth recording, they not only live, but thrive ; 
and that is quite enough. A man no longer says of himself 
with exultation : " I belong to the land where Milton sung the 
song of seraphim, and Newton traced the paths of light ; 
where Alfred established his throne in wisdom, and where 
the palms and laurels of renown shade the tombs of the mighty 
and the excellent." .Thus dissevered from recollections so 
dear and so ennobling, what ties are substituted in their 
places 1 Can he regard with tender and reverential feelings 
a land that has not only been deprived of its best ornaments, 
but become a receptacle of the outcasts of society from every 
nation in Europe ? Is there a person whose dubious or tur- 
bulent character- has made him unwelcome or suspected in 
society, he goes to America, where he knows no one, and is 
of no one known ; and where he can with safety assume any 
character. All that tremble with the consciousness of unde- 
tected crimes, or smart from the consequence of unchecked 
follies ; fraudulent bankrupts, unsuccessful adventurers, rest- 
less projectors, or seditious agitators, this great Limbus Pa- 



282 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

trum has room for them all ; and to it they fly in the day of 
their calamity. With such a heterogeneous mixture a trans- 
planted Briton of the original stock, a true old American, may 
live in charity, but can never assimilate. Who can, with the 
cordiality due to that sacred appellation, " my country," ap- 
ply it to that land of Hivites and Girgashites, where one can- 
not travel ten miles, on a stretch, without meeting detach- 
ments of different nations, torn from their native soil and first 
affections, and living aliens in a strange land, where no one 
seems to form part of an attached, connected whole. 

To those enlarged minds, who have got far beyond the 
petty consideration of country and kmdred, to embrace the 
whole human race, a land, whose population is lilce Joseph's 
coat, of many colors, must be a peculiarly suitable abode. 
For in the endless variety of the patchwork, of which society 
is composed, a liberal philosophic mind might meet with the 
specimens of all those tongues and nations which he compre- 
hends in the wide circle of his enlarged philanthropy. 



CHAPTER LXIV. 

Reflections continued. 



That some of the leaders of the hostile party in America 
acted upon liberal and patriotic views cannot be doubted. 
There were many, indeed, of whom the public good was the 
leading principle ; and to these the cause was a noble one ; 
yet even these little foresaw the result. Had they known 
what a cold, selfish character, what a dereliction of religious 
principle, what furious factions, and wild, unsettled notions of 
government, were to be the consequences of this utter alien- 
ation from the parent state, they would have shrunk back 
from the prospect. Those fine minds who, nurtured in the 
love of science and of elegance, looked back to the land of 
their forefathers for models of excellence, and drank inspira- 
tion from the production of the British m.use, could not but 
eel this rupture as " a wrench from all we love, from all we 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 283 

are.''^ They, too, might wish, when time had ripened their 
growing empire, to assert that independence which, when 
mature in strength and knowledge, we claim even of the pa- 
rents we love and honor. — But to snatch it, with a rude and 
bloody grasp, outraged the feelings of those gentler children 
of the common parent. Mildness of manners, refinement of 
mind, and all the softer virtues that spring up in the cultivated 
paths of social life, nurtured by generous affections, were un- 
doubtedly to be found on the side of the unhappy royalists ; 
whatever superiority in vigor and intrepidity might be claimed 
by their persecutors. Certainly, however necessary the ru- 
ling powers might find it to carry their system of exile into 
execution, it has occasioned to the country an irreparable pri- 
vation. 

When the Edict of Nantes gave the scattering blow to the 
protestants of France, they carried with them their arts, their 
frugal, regular habits, and that portable mine of wealth which 
is the portion of patient industry. The chasm produced in 
France by the departure of so much humble virtue, and so 
many useful arts, has never been filled. 

What the loss of the Huguenots was to commerce and 
manufactures in France, that of the loyalists was to religion, 
literature, and amenity, in Aaierica. The silken threads were 
drawn out of the mixed web of society, which has ever since 
been comparatively coarse and homely. The dawning light 
of elegant science was quenched in universal dulness. No 
ray has broke through the general gloom except the phos- 
phoric lightnings of her cold-blooded philosophers, the deisti- 
cal Franklin, the legitimate father of the American " age of 
calculation." So well have " the children of his souV^ profit- 
ed by the frugal lessons of this apostle of Plutus, that we see 
a new empire blest in its infancy with all the saving virtues 
which are the usual portion of cautious and feeble age ; and 
we behold it with the same complacent surprise which fills 
our minds at the sight of a young miser. 

Forgive me, shade of the accomplished Hamilton,* while 
all that is lovely in virtue, all that is honorable in valor, and 
all that is admirable in talent, conspire to lament the early 

* General Hamilton, killed in a duel, into which he was forced by 
Aaron Burr, Vice-President of Congress, at New York, in 1806. 



284 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

setting of that western star ; and to deck the tomb of worth 
and genius with wreaths of immortal bloom : 

" Thee Columbia long shall weep ; 
Ne'er agahi thy likeness see ;" 

fain would I add, 

" Long her strains in sorrows steep. 
Strains of immortality." Gray. 

But, alas ! 

" They have no poet, and they die." Pope. 

His character was a bright exception ; yet, after all, an ex- 
ception that only confirms the rule. What must be the state 
of that country where worth, talent, and the disinterested ex- 
ercise of every faculty of a vigorous and exalted mind, were 
in vain devoted to the public good ? Where, indeed, they 
only marked out their possessor for a victim to the shrine of 
faction ? Alas ! that a compliance with the laws of false 
honor, (the only blemish of a stainless life,) should be so 
dearly expiated ! Yet the deep sense expressed by all par- 
ties of this general loss, seems to promise a happier day at 
some future period, when this chaos of jarring elements shall 
be reducecf by some pervading and governing mind into a set- 
tled form. 

But much must be done, and suffered, before this change 
can take place. There never can be much improvement till 
there is union and subordination ; till those strong local at- 
tachments are formed, which are the basis of patriotism, and 
the bonds of social attachment. But, while such a wide field 
is open to the spirit of adventure, and while the facility of 
removal encourages that restless and ungovernable spirit, 
there is little hope of any material change. There is in 
America a double principle of fermentation, which continues 
to impede the growth of the arts and sciences, and of those 
gentler virtues of social life which were blasted by the breath 
of popular fury. On the sea-side there is a perpetual im- 
portation of lawless and restless persons, who have no other 
path to the notoriety they covet, but that which leads through 
party violence ; and of the want of that local attachment I 
have been speaking of, there can be no stronger proof than 
the passion for emigration so frequent in America. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 285 

Among those who are neither beloved in the vicinity of 
their place of abode, nor kept stationary by any gainful pur- 
suit,' it is incredible how light a matter will afford a pretext 
for removal ! 

Here is one great motive for good conduct and decorous 
manners obliterated. The good opinion of his neighbors is 
of little c'onsequence to him, who can scarce be said to have 
any. If a man keeps free of those crimes which a regard 
for the public safety compels the magistrate to punish, he 
linds shelter in every forest from the scorn and dislike in- 
curred by petty trespasses on society. There, all who are 
unwilling to submit to the restraints of law and religion, may 
live unchallenged, at a distance from the public exercise of 
either. There all whom want has made desperate, whether 
it be the want of abilities, of character, or the means to live, 
are sure to take shelter. This habit of removing furnishes, 
however, a palliation for some e^dls, for, the facility with 
which they change residence, becomes the means of ridding 
the community of members too turbulent or too indolent to be 
quiet or useful. It is a kind of voluntary exile, where those 
whom government want power and efficiency to banish, very 
obligingly banish themselves ; thus preventing the explosions 
which might be occasioned by their continuing mingled in 
the general mass. 

It is owing to this salutary discharge of peccant humors 
that matters go on so quietly as they do, under a government 
which is neither feared nor loved by the community it rules. 
These removals are incredibly frequent ; for the same family, 
flying as it were before the face of legal authority and civi- 
lization, are often known to remove farther and farther back 
into the woods, every fifth or sixth year, as the population 
begins to draw nearer. By this secession from society, a 
partial reformation is in some cases effected. A person in- 
capable of regular industry and compliance with its establish- 
ed customs, will certainly do least harm, when forced to de- 
pend on his personal exertions. When a man places him- 
self in the situation of Robinson Crusoe, with the difference 
of a wife and children for that solitary hero's' cats and parrots, 
he must of necessity make exertions like his, or perish. He 
becomes not a regular husbandman, but a hunter, with whom 
agriculture is but a secondary consideration. His Indian 



286 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

corn and potatoes, which constitute the main part of his crop, 
are, in due time, hoed by his wife and daughters; while the 
axe and the gun are the only implements he willingly handles. 
Fraud and avarice are the vices of society, and do not 
thrive in the shade of the forests. The hunter, like the sailor, 
has little thought of coveting or amassing. He does not 
forge, nor cheat, nor steal ; as such an unprincipled person 
must' have done in the world, where, instead of wild beasts, 
he must have preyed upon his fellows ; and he does not drink 
much, because liquor is not attainable. But he becomes 
coarse, savage, and totally negligent of all the forms and de- 
cencies of life. He grows wild and unsocial. To him a 
neighbor is an encroacher. He has learned to do without one ; 
and he knows not how to yield to him in any point of mutual 
accommodation. He cares neither to give nor take assist- 
ance, and finds all the society he wants in his own family. 
Selfish, from the over-indulged love of ease and liberty, he 
sees in a new-comer merely an abridgment of his range, and 
an interloper in that sport on which he would much rather 
depend for subsistence than on the habits of regular industry. 
What can more flatter an imagination warm with native be- 
nevolence, and animated by romantic enthusiasm, than the 
image of insulated self-dependent families, growing up in 
those primeval retreats, remote from the corruptions of the 
world, and dwelling amidst the prodigality of nature. Noth- 
ing, however, can be more anti-Arcadian. There no crook 
is seen, no pipe is heard, no lamb bleats, for the best possible 
reason, because there are no sheep. No pastoral strains 
awake the sleeping echoes, doomed to sleep on till the bull- 
frog, the wolf, and the Quackawarry* begin their nightly con- 
cert. Seriously, it is not a place that can, in any instance, 
constitute happiness. When listless indolence and lawless 
turbulence fly to shades the most tranquil, or scenes the most 
beautiful, they degrade nature instead of improving or enjoy- 
ing her charms. Active diligence, a sense of our duty to the 
source of all good, and kindly afl*ections towards our fellow- 
creatures, with a degree of self-command and mental im- 
provement, can alone produce the gentle manners that ensure 

* Quackawarry is the Indian name of a bird, which flies about in the 
night, making a noise similar to the sound of its name. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 287 

rural peace, or enable us, with intelligence and gratitude, to 
"rejoice in nature's joys." 



CHAPTER LXV. 

Sketch of the settlement of Pennsylvania. 

Fain would I turn from this gloomy and uncertain prospect, 
so disappointing to philanthropy, and so subA'ersive of all the 
flattering hopes and sanguine predictions of the poets and 
philosophers, who were wont to look forward to a new Ata- 
lantis, 

" Famed for arts and laws derived from Jove," 

in this western world. But I cannot quit the fond retrospect 
of what once was in one favored spot, without indulging a 
distant hope of what may emerge from this dark, disordered 
state . 

The melancholy Cowley, the ingenious bishop of Cloyne, 
and many others, alike eminent for virtue and for genius, 
looked forward to this region of liberty as a soil, where peace, 
science, and religion could have room to take root and flourish 
unmolested. In those primeval solitudes, enriched by the 
choicest bounties of nature, they might (as these benevolent 
speculators thought) extend their shelter to tribes no longer 
savage, rejoicing in the light of evangelic truth, and exalting 
science. Little did these amiable projectors know how much 
is to be done before the human mind, debased by habitual 
vice, and cramped by artificial manners in the old world, can 
wash out its stains and resume its simplicity in a new ; nor 
did they know through how many gradual stages of culture 
the untutored intellect of savage tribes must pass before they 
become capable of comprehending those truths which to us 
habit has rendered obvious, or which at any rate we have 
talked of so familiarly, that we think we comprehend them. 
These projectors of felicity were not so ignorant of human 
nature, as to expect change of place could produce an in- 
stantaneous change of character ; but they hoped to realize 
a Utopia, where justice should be administered on the purest 



288 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

principles ; from which venality should be banished, and 
where mankind should, through the paths of truth and up- 
rightness, arrive at the highest attainable happiness in a 
state not meant for perfection. They " talked the style 
of gods," making very little account of "chance and suffer- 
ance." Their speculations of the result remind me of what 
is recorded in some ancient writer, of a project for building 
a magnificent temple to Diana in some one of the Grecian 
states. A reward was offered to him who should erect, 
at the public cost, with most taste and ingenuity, a struc- 
ture which should do honor both to the goddess and her 
worshippers. Several candidates appeared. The first that 
spoke was a self-satisfied young man, who, in a long florid 
harangue, described the pillars, the porticoes, and the propor- 
tions of this intended building, seeming all the while more 
intent on the display of his elocution, than on the subject of 
his discourse. When he had finished, a plain elderly man 
came from behind him, and leaning forwards, said, in a deep 
hollow voice, " All that h-e has said I will do." 

William Penn was the man, born to give " a local habita- 
tion and a name," to all that had hitherto only floated in the 
day-dreams of poets and philosophers. 

To qualify him for the legislator of a new-born sect, with 
all the innocence and all the helplessness of infancy, many 
circumstances concurred, that could scarce ever be supposed 
to happen at once to the same person. Born to fortune and 
distinction, with a mind powerful and cultivated, he knew, 
experimentally, all the advantages to be derived from wealth 
•or knowledge, and could not be said ignorantly to despise 
them. He had, in his early days, walked far enough into 
the paths of folly and dissipation, to know human character 
in all its varieties, and to say experimentally — all is vanity. 
With a vigorous mind, an ardent imagination, and a heart 
glowing with the warmest benevolence, he appears to have 
been driven, by a repulsive abhorrence of the abuse of know- 
ledge, of pleasure, and pre-eminence which he had witness- 
ed, into the opposite extreme, into a sect, the very first prin- 
ciples of which clip the wings of fancy, extinguish ambition, 
and bring every struggle for superiority, the result of uncom- 
mon powers of mind, down to the dead level of tame equality ; 
a sect that reminds one of the exclusion of poets from Plato's 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 289 



fancied republic, by stripping off all the many-colored garbs 
with which learning and imagination have invested the forms 
of ideal excellence, and reducing them to a few simple reali- 
ties, arrayed as soberly as their votaries. 

This sect, which brings mankind to a resemblance of 
Thomson's Laplanders, 

" Who little pleasure know, and feel no pain," 

might be supposed the last to captivate, nay, to absorb, such a 
mind as I have been describing. Yet so it was : even in the 
midst of all this cold humility, dominion was to be found. 
That rule, which of all others is most gratifying to a mind 
conscious of its own power, and directing it to the purposes 
of benevolence, the voluntary subjection of mind, the homage 
which a sect pays to its leader, is justly accounted the most 
gratifying species of power ; and to this lurking ambition 
every thing is rendered subservient, by those who have once 
known this native and inherent superiority. This man, who 
had wasted his inheritance, alienated his relations, and 
estranged his friends ; who had forsaken the religion of his 
ancestors, and in a great measure the customs of his country; 
whom some charged with folly, and others with madness, was, 
nevertheless, destined to plan with consummate wisdom, and 
execute with indefatigable activity and immoveable firmness, 
a scheme of government such as has been the wish, at least, 
of every enlarged and benevolent mind, (from Plato down- 
wards,) which has indulged speculations of the kind. The 
glory of realizing, in some degree, all these fair visions, was, 
however, reserved for William Penn alone. 

Imagination delights to dwell on the tranquil abodes of 
plenty, content, and equanimity, that so quickly " rose like an 
exhalation," in the domains of this pacific legislator. That 
he should expect to protect the quiet abodes of his peaceful 
and industrious followers merely with a fence of olive, (as 
one may call his gentle institutions,) is wonderful ; and the 
more so, when we consider him to have lived in the world, 
and known too well, by his own experience, of what discord- 
ant elements it is composed. A mind so powerful and com- 
prehensive as his, could not but know, that the wealth which 
quiet and blameless industry insensibly accumulates, proves 
merely a lure to attract the armed spoiler to the defenceless 

25 



290 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 



dwellings of those, who do not think it a duty to protect 
themselves. 

" But when divine ambition swell'd his mind, 
Ambition truly great, of virtuous deeds," 

he could no otherwise execute his plan of utility, than by the 
agency of a people who were bound together by a principle 
at once adhesive and exclusive, and who were too calm and 
self-subdued, too benignant and just, to create enemies to 
themselves among their neighbors, There could be no mo- 
tive but the thirst of rapine, for disturbing a community so 
inoffensive ; and the founder, no doubt, flattered himself that 
the parent-country would not fail to extend to them that pro- 
tection, which their useful lives and helpless state both need- 
ed and deserved. 

Never, surely, were institutions better calculated for nurs- 
ing the infancy of a sylvan colony, from which the noisy 
pleasures, and more bustling varieties of life, were necessarily 
excluded. The serene and dispassionate state, to which it 
seems the chief aim of this sect to bring the human mind, is 
precisely what is requisite to reconcile it to the privations that 
must be encountered during the early stages of the progres- 
sion of society, which, necessarily excluded from the pleas- 
ures of refinement, should be guarded from its pains. 

Where nations in the course of time become civilized, the 
process is so gradual from one race to another, that no violent 
effort is required to break through settled habits, and acquire 
new tastes and inclinations, fitted to what might be almost 
styled a new mode of existence. But when colonies are 
first settled, in a country so entirely primitive as that to which 
William Penn led his followers, there is a kind of retrogade 
movement of the mind, requisite to reconcile people to the 
new duties and new views that open to them, and to make the 
total privation of wonted objects, modes, and amusements, 
tolerable. 

Perfect simplicity of taste and manners, and entire indif- 
ference to much of what the world calls pleasure, were neces- 
sary to make life tolerable to the first settlers in a trackless 
wilderness. These habits of thinking and living, so difficult 
to acquire, and so painful when forced upon the mind by in- 
evitable necessity, the Quakers brought with them, and left. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 291 

without regret, a world from which they were already ex- 
cluded by that austere simplicity which peculiarly fitted them 
for their new situation. A kindred simplicity, and a similar 
ignorance of artificial refinements and high-seasoned pleas- 
ures, produced the same effect in qualifying the first settlers 
at Albany to support the privations, and endure the inconve- 
niences of their novitiate in the forests of the new world. 
But to return to William Penn ; the fair fabric he had erected, 
though it speedily fulfilled the utmost promise of hope, con- 
tained within itself the principle of dissolution, and, from the 
very nature of the beings which composed it, must have de- 
cayed, though the revolutionary shock had not so soon shaken 
its foundations. Sobriety and prudence lead naturally to 
wealth, and wealth to authority, which soon strikes at the root 
of the shortlived principle of equality. A single instance 
may occur here and there, but who can ever suppose nature 
running so contrary to her bias that all the opulent members 
of a community should acquire or inherit wealth for the mere 
purpose of giving it away ? Where there are no elegant arts 
to be encouraged, no elegant pleasures to be procured, where 
ingenuity is not to be rewarded, or talent admired or exercised, 
what is wealth but a cumbrous load, sinking the owner deeper 
and deeper into grossness and dulness, having no incitement 
to exercise the only faculties permitted him to use, and few 
objects to relieve in a community from which vice and pov- 
erty are equally excluded by their industry, and their whole- 
some rule of expulsion. We all know that there is not in 
society a more useless and disgusting character than what is 
formed by the possession of great wealth without elegance or 
refinement ; without, indeed, that liberality which can only 
result from a certain degree of cultivation. What then would 
a community be, entirely formed of such persons ; or, sup- 
posing such a community to exist, how long would they ad- 
here to the simple manners of their founder, with such a source 
of corruption mingled with their very existence ? Detachment 
from pleasure and from vanity, frugal and simple habits, and 
an habitual close adherence to some particular trade or employ- 
ment, are circumstances that have a sure tendency to enrich 
the individuals who practise them. This, in the end, is " to 
give humility a coach and six," or, in reality, to destroy the 
very principle of adhesion which binds and continues the sect. 



292 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

Highly estimable as a sect, these people were respectable 
and amiable in their collective capacity as a colony. But 
then it was an institution so constructed, that, without a mira- 
cle, its virtues must have expired with its minority. I do not 
here speak of the necessity of its being governed and pro- 
tected by those of different opinions, but merely of wealth 
stagnating without its proper application. Of this humane 
community it is but just to say, that they were the only Eu- 
ropeans in the new world who always treated the Indians 
with probity like their own, and with kindness calculated to 
do honor to the faith they professed. I speak of them now 
in their collective capacity. They, too, are the only people 
that, in a temperate, judicious (and, I trust, successful) man- 
ner, have endeavored, and still endeavor to convert the Indians 
to Christianity ; for them, too, was reserved the honorable 
distinction of being the only body who sacrificed interest to 
humanity, by voluntarily giving freedom to those slaves whom 
they held in easy bondage. That a government so constituted 
could not, in the nature of things, long exist, is to be regret- 
ted ; that it produced so much good to others, and so much 
comfort and prosperity to its subjects while it did exist, is an 
honorable testimony of the worth and wisdom of its benevo- 
lent founder. 



CHAPTER LXVI, 



Prospects brightening in British America. — Desirable country on the Inte- 
rior Lakes, &c. 

However discouraging the prospect of society on this 
great continent may at present appear, there is every reason 
to hope that time, and the ordinary course of events, may 
bring about a desirable change ; but in the present state of 
things, no government seems less calculated to promote the 
happiness of its subjects, or to ensure permanence to itself, 
than that feeble and unstable system which is only calculated 
for a community comprising more virtue and more union than 
such a heterogeneous mixture can be supposed to have attain- 



AND SfltNERY IN AMERICA. 293 

ed. States, like individuals, purchase wisdom by suffering, 
and they have probably much to endure before they assume a 
fixed and determinate form. 

Without partiality it may be safely averred, that notwith- 
standing the severity of the climate, and other unfavorable 
circumstances, the provinces of British America are the abode 
of more present safety and happiness, and contain situations 
more favorable to future establishments, than any within the 
limits of the United States. 

To state all the grounds upon which this opinion is found- 
ed, might lead me into discussions, narratives, and descrip- 
tion, which might swell into a volume more interesting than 
the present one. But being at present neither able nor in- 
clined to do justice to the subject, I shall only briefly ob- 
serve first, with regard to the government, that it is one to 
which the governed are fondly attached, and which, like re- 
ligion, becomes endeared to its votaries, by the sufferings 
they have endured for their adherence to it. It is consonant 
to their earliest prejudices, and sanctioned by hereditary at- 
tachment. The climate is indeed severe, but it is steady and 
regTilar ; the skies in the interior are clear, the air is pure. 
The summer, with all the heat of warm climates to cherish 
the productions of the earth, is not subject to the drought that 
in such climates scorches and destroys them. Abundant 
woods afford shelter and fuel, to mitigate the severity of win- 
ter ; and streams rapid and copious flow in all directions to 
refresh the plants and cool the air, during their short but ar- 
dent summer. 

The country, barren at the sea-side, does not afford an in- 
ducement for those extensive settlements which have a ten- 
dency to become merely commercial from their situation. It 
becomes more fertile as it recedes farther from the sea ; thus 
holding out an inducement to pursue nature into her favorite 
retreats, where, on the banks of mighty waters, calculated to 
promote all the purposes of social traffic among the inhabit- 
ants, the richest soil, the happiest climate, and the most com- 
plete detachment from the world, promise a safe asylum to 
those who carry the arts and the literature of Europe, here- 
after to grace and enlighten scenes where agriculture has 
already made rapid advances. 

In the dawning lirrht which already be£jins to rise in these 



294 SKETCHES OF MANNERS 

remote abodes, much may be discovered of what promises a 
brighter day. Excepting the remnant of the old Canadians, 
who are a very inoffensive people, patient and cheerful, at- 
tached to monarchy, and much assimilated to our modes of 
thinking and living, these provinces are peopled, for the most 
part, with inhabitants possessed of true British hearts and 
principles ; veterans who have shed their blood, and spent 
their best days in the service of the parent country, and 
royalists who have fled here for a refuge, after devoting their 
property to the support of their honor and loyalty ; who ad- 
here together, and form a society graced by that knowledge 
and those manners which rendered them respectable in their 
original state, with all the experience gained from adversity, 
and that elevation of sentiment which results from the con- 
sciousness of having suffered in a good cause. Here, too, 
are clusters of emigrants, who have fled unacquainted with 
the refinements, and free from the contaminations of the old 
world, to seek for that bread and peace, which the progress 
of luxury and the change of manners denied them at home. 
Here they come in kindly confederation, resolved to cherish 
in those kindred groups, which have left with social sorrow 
their native mountains, the customs and traditions, the lan- 
guage and the love of their ancestors, and to find comfort in 
that religion which has been ever their support and their 
shield, for all that they have left behind.* 

It is by tribes of individuals intimately connected with each 
other by some common tie, that a country is most advantageous- 
ly settled ; to which the obvious superiority, in point of principle 
and union, that distinguishes British America from the United 
States, is chiefly owing. Our provinces afford no room for 
wild speculations either of the commercial or political kind ; 
regular, moderate trade, promising little beyond a comfortable 
subsistence, and agriculture, requiring much industry and 
settled habits, are the only paths open to adventurers ; and 
the chief inducement to emigration is the possibility of an at- 
tached society of friends and kindred, finding room to dwell 



* It is needless to enlarge on a subject, to .which Lord Selkirk has done 
such ample justice, who wanted nothing but a little experience and a little 
aid, to make the best practical comments on his own judicious observa- 
tions. 



AND SCENERY IN AMERICA. 295 

together, and meeting, in the depth of these fertile wilds, with 
similar associations. Hence, solitary and desperate adven- 
turers, the vain, the turbulent, and the ambitious, shun these 
regulated abodes of quiet industry, for scenes more adapted to 
their genius. 

I shall now conclude my recollections, which circum- 
stances have often rendered very painful; but will not take 
upon me to enlarge on those hopes that stretch a dubious 
wing into temporal futurity, in se'arch of a brighter day, and 
a better order of things : content if I have preserved some 
records of a valuable life ; thrown some glimmering light 
upon the progress of society in that peculiar slate, which it 
was my fate to witness and to share ; and afforded some 
hours of harmless amusement to those lovers of nature and 
of truth, who can patiently trace their progress through a tale 
devoid alike of regular arrangement, surprising variety, and 
artificial embellishment.* 

* The reader who has patiently gone on to the conclusion of these de- 
sultory memoirs, will perhaps regret parting with that singular association 
of people, the Mohawk tribes, without knowing where the few that remain 
have taken up their abode. It is but doing justice to this distinguished 
race to say, that, though diminished, they were not subdued ; though vol- 
untary exiles, not degraded. Their courage and fidelity were to the last 
exerted in the most trying exigences. True to their alliance with that 
nation with whom they had ever lived in friendship, and faithful to that re- 
spectable family who had formed at once the cement and the medium by 
which that alliance was confirmed, and through which assurances of 
attachment and assistance had been transmitted, all that remained of this 
powerful nation followed Sir John Johnson (the son of their revered Sir 
William) into Upper Canada, where they now find a home around the 
place of his residence. One old man alone, having no living tie remain- 
ing, would not forsake the tombs of his ancestors, and remains like " a 
watchman on the lonely hill ;" or rather like a sad memento of an ex- 
tinguished nation. 



THE END. 



m 



l5 



88 



^t 









^^ •'-^- <^^ 



r. ""^^^^ /J 














,/ "^. -m 


















^^n^ 



* ^r O "^J^^^i^^J^^* Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 

av O. * o w ^ Neutralizing Agent: Magnesium Oxide 

^ \ e » • '*^ /-v Treatment Date: 

,^ y^m^:^ "V. .-4? ^-A nr. 1007 ,«* 





r O " ° « ' 



IbIheibiweeper ^ 

PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES, LP. S^ 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive >^ 
Cranberry Twp., PA 1 6066 ^ 

(412)779-2111 




^, 



HECKMAN 1^ 

BINDERY INC. |§ 

.^ AUG 88 

N. MANCHESTER, 
INDIANA 46962 









